Somnambulist
by vonnie836
Summary: John and Dean have to figure out what's going on with Sam to keep their youngest save. Years later it's up to Bobby to do the same.
1. Chapter 1

So here is my newest story. Again the bunny and request for this story came from Hot Show. Thanks girl for letting me use this. I hope you enjoy this.

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Disclaimer - Supernatural and the Winchesters belong to me - Well they don't, but a girl can dream. Nothing belongs to me, except a few original characters that might pop up and the old lab top I used to write and post this.

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**Somnambulist**

Wichita Kansas, July 1992

John Winchester opened the door to the refrigerator and let out a frustrated sigh. There would be no milk this morning. He had found the container sitting on the counter, open and judging by the smell, standing there for hours. Although in this heat and without any air conditioning in the house it surely wouldn't have taken long to get it to this state. There would also be no eggs or bread, because on the prior morning he had found the container with the eggs on the floor, all of them broken and the bread spread out in the sink, soaked with water.

The Winchester patriarch was not sure what was going on, but he knew whatever it was, one or both of his boys were behind it. He suspected it was Sammy, who did this and Dean was covering for him, or maybe it was the other way around. If anything, his kids were tight and they weren't going to talk. He had tried all day yesterday with out success and he was sure today wouldn't be any different. Inside he actually chuckled, the pranks were so senseless, that's why he was almost sure, Sammy had to be behind them. Thirteen year old Dean was far to advanced for this kind of stuff.

He pushed the smile away and put on a serious face, as he heard both boys coming out of there room. No matter what, there would be a punishment.

"Hey dad, what's for breakfast?" Dean questioned, as he put his arm around his little brother and pulled him into a headlock.

"Deeeaan, not again!" Sam complained, struggling to get free. Small for nine, the boy had no chance against his older brother.

John bit back a grin, then said, "Stop it right now boys."

Instantly Dean let go of his brother and Sam stood up straight. Both of them knew if their dad talked like this they better listened.

"I found the milk sitting out and it's spoiled. After the incident with the eggs and the bread yesterday morning this means, there is not going to be any breakfast for either one of you." Looking at the upset faces, especially his youngest puppy dog eyes, he almost cracked and had to turn away in order to not give in. Hurriedly he added, "Get ready for school. I don't want to hear one word of complaint, or there won't be any supper either."

He walked out of the kitchen, leaving his sons behind with there heads hanging. They had talked about the bread and eggs and either one had assured the other he didn't do it. Sam looked at his big brother with sudden fear in his hazel orbs.

"Dean, do you…" he swallowed hard before continuing, "…do you think it was a spirit."

The older boy almost laughed, if it wasn't for the real horror written in his siblings face holding him back.

So instead he hurried to say, "Naaa, Sammy, no way. Dad always makes sure the salt lines are intact and all the sigils are placed right. There is no way possible anything supernatural ever could get in here."

"Oh, okay." For a moment the younger boy thought, then he said, "But what if it's already in here?"

"Can't, dad would've ganked it already." Dean smiled, "Come on Sammy, I made some money mowing Mrs. Millers lawn, I buy us some 'Egg MacMuffins' on the way to school."

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It was ten o'clock at night and John Winchester was ready to send his oldest to bed. Dean had insisted to help him with the research for their latest hunt. His younger brother was soundly sleeping for the last hour and a half. The younger boy had fallen asleep studying for school shortly after eight, so his father had finally woke him and made him go to bed. Dean on the other hand liked to stay up late and even now was reluctant to go. But the boy knew better than to refuse his dad's order. Making his way to the bathroom, he stopped in front of his dad's room, when he saw the outline of a small figure in the pale light of the moon shining through the window.

"Sammy?" He stepped inside, wondering what his brother was doing, "Hey kiddo, what you doing in dad's room?"

The younger boy looked at him, his pupils large and not really focused on Dean. Slowly his mouth opened then closed again, before he finally said, "I'm hungry in the bathroom."

His brother couldn't help but grin; neither could John, who by now was standing in the doorway.

"Come on buddy, let's get you back to bed before you fall asleep standing up." Dean gently guided Sam back to their room, giving his father a knowing look as they walked by him. Both knew that their youngest very likely had gotten up to go to the bathroom, maybe even was hungry, but being as tired as he was had gotten disoriented and ended up in the wrong bedroom.

Helping his brother back to bed, Dean covered him up and gently stroked over his unruly hair, "Sleep buddy, I'll be there in a moment to."

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Two hours later found the elder Winchester still trying to get back into his research. Ever since the earlier interruption he found it difficult to concentrate at the task at hand. Instead his mind kept drifting away from the books and newspapers in front of him and wandering to his sons. It was mostly Sam, who his thoughts kept going to. Tonight's incident had been almost funny and not really anything John was worried about. It wasn't uncommon for the kid to sleep so soundly that it took him a while to really wake up. On the other hand his youngest behavior had been somewhat out of character over the last few months. The usually so curious boy had become quiet of late and no longer showed any interest in asking questions. Where he used to be enthusiastic and would hang on his father every time John would leave for a hunt; he was now withdrawn and would hardly say good-bye.

John carded his hand through his hair, wondering if he made a mistake by not letting Sam in on the family "secret" earlier in live. It seemed just too much of a coincident that these changes happened shortly after Sam was on his first hunt. Dean never had a problem. He was a natural hunter, took to it like a duck took to water. So maybe if he would have let Sam grow into it like he did his oldest it would be different now. He threw the thought out almost instantly. No, he was right to protect Sammy. The kid never had a normal life, never had a mother he remembered, never had a home. The least he could do was keep his little boy from knowing the things that go bump at night were real, for as long as possible. That hadn't been a mistake, no way.

The hunter startled out of his thoughts, when he heard a noise coming from the living room. Jumping up, he grabbed his gun from the table and made his way into the other room. He lowered the weapon and put it into the back of his jeans, as soon as he caught sight of his youngest. Anger overcame him at what was playing out in front of him. Sam was standing in the corner of the room, urinating on the floor, like it was the most natural thing in the world. He couldn't believe it, why would the kid think he could away with this?

Just as he took a step forward, Sam turned around and looked at him. Waiting for a reaction, he was astonished, when instead his son walked by him, acting like he didn't even existed. Opening his mouth, he stopped and thought for just a second, then closed it again. Something was definitely not right here.

"Sammy", He called out.

When he received no reaction, he repeated the call, at the same time moving up to his son and putting his hand on the child's shoulder. Almost instantly Sam stopped and looked up at him. In the light coming from the kitchen, the elder Winchester could see the glassiness in his youngest' eyes.

Knowing without a doubt now that something was wrong with Sam, he said in a much more gentle tone, "Sammy, what were you doing there?"

The little boy moved his head from side to side for a moment then said, "Dean shared his candy bar with me."

With that he started moving again, leaving his speechless father to watch him disappear back into the boy's bedroom.

It took the hunter a moment to pull himself together and go after his son. Quietly opening the door, he stepped inside, finding both boys fast asleep. He knelt down in front of Sam's bed and put his hand on top of his shoulder. After sitting like this for several minutes, he came to the conclusion that his youngest was indeed asleep. There was no unusual warmth radiating from him and his breathing and pulse were perfectly normal. Unsure what to do, he decided to let the kid sleep for now, but keep a close eye on him.

Walking out of the room, he checked the salt lines and wards then gathered the supplies together to clean up Sam's mess. He looked at the worn down wooden floorboards, remembering how many times one of the boys had taken a splinter into their feet, when walking without shoes. For the first time he was grateful for it though, it made it easier to clean up. Taking his time with the task, he let his mind slide back to the events of the evening. He wasn't sure what to make of it, but he was sure it wasn't a possession. Maybe it was a spell? He threw the thought out almost as fast as it came to him. They hadn't been on a hunt related to anything with witches or anything like it. So what did that leave?

He dumped the water from the bucket into the toilet and washed out the mop, when it hit him out of the blue. He remembered his best friend in school talking about his little brother walking around at night and not remembering in the morning. He had called it sleepwalking. That's what it had to be. Now he just had to find out how to get rid of it and everything would be alright. Feeling a lot better he turned the lights off and made his way back to the smaller bedroom, stopping in his own first and picking up a pillow and blanket from the bed. As quietly as the first time, he opened and closed the door to the boy's room, before making his sleep place for the night in front of the entry way. He knew there was no way for either of his sons to get by him without him noticing.

TBC

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So I hope you liked the first chapter. Do you think it is worth to continue it? Let me know. Thanks and hugs, Vonnie


	2. Chapter 2

Alright, I have to say I'm overwhelmed by the response I got to the first chapter. Besides the reviews, I hope I responded to all of you and didn't forget anyone, I also want to thank everyone who put me on Story/Author Alert or Favorite. I was really surprised and it made me squee. So thanks again for the support. Here is the next part.

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Dean woke up early, which was really unusual for him. Typically it was Sam who was the first to be up, most days before the alarm went off. Sitting up in bed, he stared in surprise at the door, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing them with his hand, he opened them again, just to find the scene before him didn't change. His dad was betted down in front of the door, snoring softly.

"Dad?" Dean whispered, knowing his father would hear him. The reaction was prompt, as the elder Winchester sat up and looked at him in confusion.

"Shit…" He stood up, picking the pillow and blanket up. He really planned to be out of the kids room before either of them woke up. Now he would have to explain to Dean before he actually had done any research on the condition. Waving at his oldest, he made his way out of the room as quietly as possible, knowing Dean would follow him without any further questions.

Dean sat down at the kitchen table watching his father make coffee, hoping the older man would start explaining himself. The older man was undeterred though until he finished his preparation and turned on the coffee maker. Turning around, he leaned against the counter and gave his eldest a serious look, before finally starting to talk.

"I think your brother is sleepwalking." He let the sentence hang in the air for a moment, taking in the confused look on Dean's face, "I don't know a whole lot about it, but…"

"Dad, I know what sleepwalking is; there is no way Sammy is doing that." The thirteen year old protested.

"I understand this is difficult to believe, but I'm pretty sure that's what it is. You know how strange Sam acted, when he was up last night and after you went to bed…" He proceeded to inform Dean about the events of the previous night. After he finished, he added, "I promise you, I'll get right on it today and find out more. Make sure that's really what it is and how we can deal with it."

"What about the hunt?"

"I'm gonna call Rufus, he is in the area and I'm sure he'll be able to take over. I got most the research done, so all he has to do is drop by and pick it up. Right now I don't want to leave you boys alone."

John turned again and pulled a cup out of the cup board, filling it with the steaming hot java. He didn't notice his oldest letting out a breath of relief at his words. After what he just heard, Dean was glad his dad wasn't leaving. For John that wasn't necessarily a natural thing to do. He was obsessed with the hunt and besides missing Christmas and birthdays; he never hesitated to leave an ill and feverish Sammy with his older brother in the past.

"Thanks, dad, I'll check the school library today, see if I can fin out anything about sleep walking too." Dean said with determination, Sam was his responsibility as much as he was their father's, maybe even more so. He would do anything in his power to help his baby brother.

SN SN SN SN SN

Allowing Sam to spend some time with his friends after school, John used the time to compare notes with his eldest. As it turned out, between the two of them they had enough information that they felt they would be able with Sam's problem. By now there was no doubt in either's mind that they were indeed dealing with sleepwalking. The Winchester patriarch looked down at the notes he'd taken and started to explain what he found.

"It says that sleepwalking is something that usually happens without much explanation. They found sometimes stress is a factor, but most of the time it's not really known. Some of the other causes can be certain medications, which we know Sammy isn't on any, so that's out, not enough sleep or irregular sleep schedules can be a cause, so can illness or injury."

"Guess it's pretty clear what Sam's problem is then. I think he had a lot to deal with lately, with just finding out about hunting and all that." Dean stated.

"Wait a moment here, it says stress or psychological problems are hardly ever the source. I would think it has more to do with his sleep schedule. The kid stays up late a lot to study, especially if we've been hunting for a couple of days."

Although Dean wasn't sure he agreed with his father, he had to admit it was a reasonable assumption.

"So what are we gonna do about it?" He questioned.

"Make sure he has a regular bedtime schedule and take him on hunts only on the weekends and during vacation for right now. I'm sure that will take care of the problem." His father explained.

"Guess it's worth a try." Dean admitted, "Now what else did you find out. I read that some of the symptoms are getting up within a couple hours of going to bed, not remembering anything in the morning, talking or not responding when talked to."

"Got the same things, plus being clumpsy…"

Dean couldn't help laughing, "Like that's anything different for Sammy."

"…talking nonsense or doing inappropriate things." John continued without being deterred.

"The doing inappropriate things definitely fit."

"Yep, they say sleepwalking itself isn't anything dangerous, but that the person doing it can injure himself because they are not really aware what they are doing. There are some tips how to make your house save to, which sounds great, because I know everything about how to keep spirits and other stuff out, but I don't really remember how to keep Sammy in. And to try and get them to stop, you gotta make sure they don't drink to much before going to bed, help them relax and get them enough sleep."

Dean looked at his father, suddenly feeling less helpless, as it appeared like they really could deal with this. Now that he knew what to do, he was eager to get started.

"So, what are we waiting for, let's get the house Sammy proved."

John smiled, he had just been waiting for this, "Great, I bought all the supplies we need."

Together they child proved the cabinets in the kitchen and bathroom that contained cleaning supplies or soap, making sure Sam couldn't accidentally poison himself at night. The next project was installing chains on the door, windows and refrigerator, making sure they were high enough so Sam couldn't easily reach them. During the day they would be disconnected and only put in place after their youngest went to bed. John also installed a lock to the basement door and kept the key in one of the child proved cabinets.

The last thing was that he decided, although it was under protest from Dean, was to leave Sammy in the dark for now. He felt, if his youngest didn't know, he wouldn't be distressed by it. And why worry the kid, chances were that this sleepwalking thing would blow over before Sam would ever become aware of it.

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Sam had no idea what was going on. For the last couple weeks things in the Winchester household had totally changed. As soon as he came home from home he was allowed to sit down and do his homework, rather than spar with Dean and run two miles. Those things were left for the weekend. Twice a week he was allowed to spend some time with friends and his dad took time to make dinner every night, or left enough money for take out if he had to work late. There had been no late night training sessions either, instead he was allowed to go to bed at eight thirty or earlier if he was tired.

The little boy was really stumped by the changes, no matter how much he liked them and he couldn't help wondering if there was something seriously wrong. In addition to everything else he seemed to always be tired and at times could hardly keep his eyes open in school. It increased his anxiety about what was going on and it got only worse, when he remembered the trip to the doctor they took just days before the changes happened. Maybe he was sick, maybe he even was dying and no one was telling him.

So he started to observe his father and Dean closely and found both of them were trying hard not to upset him and sometimes even threw worried looks at him. The last thing he needed to convince him that he had some kind of serious illness happened the night after he heard John telling Dean something he couldn't understand and Dean getting really upset. As soon as he walked in the room though both of them were quiet and looked like two kids caught in the act of stealing cookies.

That night he woke up because Dean was screaming at him and found himself standing on the edge of the sink. Startled by his brother's call, he lost his balance. Too drowsy to even know what was going on, he started falling, his last thought being one of total confusion before his head and right shoulder hit something hard and an awful pain followed him until total darkness engulfed him.

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Dean woke up to a sound coming from the bathroom. Looking at the digital alarm clock beside his bed, he realized it was only three o'clock, too early for his father to get up. Checking his brother's bed, he saw it was empty, the covers haphazardly thrown onto the floor. Immediately worried, he got up and made his way to the bathroom, just to stop short of the entry way, his heart starting to pound by the scene before him. Before he knew what he was doing a loud, "Saaammmy…" left his mouth, instantly leading him to regret, as he saw the his little brother's eyes widen and become aware at the same time as he started to fall backwards.

Rushing forward, the older boy was just a split second too late to save the youngest Winchester's head and shoulder from hitting the edge of the tub. The only thing he could do was catch him before his small body slid completely to the floor. Instead he caught the little guy and sliding down onto the ground, he cradled the kid into his arms, rocking him back and forth, while continuously repeating, "Oh God, I'm sorry Sammy…oh God, I'm sorry Sammy…."

That's how John Winchester found his boys just a moment later. Assessing the situation in a hurry, he took in the unconscious form of his youngest and the pale face of his oldest, he. Although he didn't exactly what happened, it wasn't difficult to put the pieces together. Sammy had been sleepwalking again and had climbed on something. Dean in his fear had startled him and the little boy had fallen and hurt himself.

Concerned for both boys, the elder Winchester leant down and carded his hand through Dean's hair, "It's alright son, let me take a look at your brother."

The older boy's eyes moved up and John could tell from the large pupils that his son was in shock, "No, it's my fault, I hurt Sammy."

"No Dean, it's not your fault, if it's anyone's fault, it's mine, but right now that doesn't matter. I need to look at Sam, see how badly he is hurt. Do you understand me?"

Slowly Dean seemed to come around and finally he said, "Okay, Sir."

Gently John pulled the little boy out of his oldest arms and carried him into his bedroom. Laying him down on his bed, he turned the light on then started to assess the damage. There was a large gash on the side of Sammy's head right above his right ear. The laceration was bleeding badly, but the hunter knew that this was the nature of head injuries. Still, when he pulled up Sam's lid to shine the flash light he always kept on his night stand in them, he could tell that the reaction was sluggish and in no way equal, telling him his son had at least a concussion. Checking the shoulder next, he didn't have to touch it to tell that it was fractured. The discoloration and extreme swelling spoke for themselves.

Looking up at Dean, who was standing right beside him, he said, "We have to take him to the hospital. Why don't you get the first aid kit, I want to immobilize his arm, so it won't get jarred on the way there and put a bandage on his head to stop the bleeding."

Dean silently turned to retrieve the requested object, but was stopped by John's hand holding on to his arm. Locking eyes with his firstborn, he assured him, "Hey, Sammy's gonna be alright, I promise."

TBC

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Once again, please let me know what you think. Is it still up to par? Love to hear from you again. Hugs Vonnie


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks again to everyone, who reviewed, put me on alert or favorite. I don't remember getting this much for any other story before. You are all so awesome and it makes me want to write even more. Again__, I want to give a special thanks to Valerie for the bunny and also to Lisa for setting me straight this week, when I almost quit writing._

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John watched his eldest son with growing concern. Ever since they had taken his little brother away for a CT scan and some x-rays he had been sitting despondently on his chair in the waiting area. He knew Dean was still blaming himself for what happened and that Sammy didn't regain consciousness since the fall didn't help either.

The father walked up to his son and quietly sat down beside him, pulling him into his embrace. Uncharacteristically Dean snuggled against him, telling the adult just how distressed he really was. John patted his back soothingly and was just about to open his mouth, when a nurse in blue scrubs appeared in the entry way and waved at him.

"Mr. Sutton, Sammy is back from his scans, you can go in again."

Letting out a relieved sigh, John pulled Dean up and pushed him ahead of himself towards the exam room. Halfway there, the teenager stopped and exchanged a hesitant glance with his father. The Winchester patriarch just nodded encouragingly, making Dean take the last few steps needed to enter the room.

Seeing the little boy lie on the exam bed, he noted right away that the hazel orbs were now open and looked around the room filled with fear. Rushing to him, Dean gently put his hand on the younger kid's cheek. Sam's eyes immediately came to rest on his brother and some of the fear dissipated from them. Instead they filled with tears.

"Where were you, Dean?"

"Sorry kiddo, they wouldn't let me come with you, when they took you for the scans. But I'm here now."

John stepped closer also and smiled down on his youngest, "Hey squirt, you gave us a scare."

"Sorry, Sir."

"You got nothing to be sorry for, it wasn't your fault." John soothed him, "The doc said you got lucky, you got only a slight concussion, but your shoulder is messed up and they need to put a pin in it to fix it. He said, they gonna take you for surgery in a few minutes."

Again fear started to flair up in the expressive face, "No, please Dean, I don't wanna. Please don't leave me." Sam's left hand latched on to his brother's and squeezed, as tears started to roll down his cheeks.

"Hey, don't worry; I won't let anything happen to you." Dean assured him, "I promise you, I'll be here when you go to sleep and I'll be here when you wake up."

"Really?" Sammy's eyes lit up, "okay, if you stay with me, I'll let them do it."

"Excuse me, but…"

A man in scrubs stepped closer and started to interrupt, but John pulled him away before he could say more.

"Wait a moment, what are you doing? I'm Dr. Morehoff, the anesthesiologist."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, but you were just about to tell my son his brother couldn't be with him." John explained.

"And he can't! No one besides the patient and staff can be in the surgical suite."

"Look, I understand that, but my little boy is scared. This accident happened while he was sleepwalking and he doesn't know what is going on. All he wants is be with his brother. Can't you give him something so he can go to sleep right here and then let my older son be with him when he wakes up?" At this moment the elder Winchester was no longer the fierce hunter, but rather he turned into a anxious father, looking out for the well being of both his sons.

The doctor thought for a moment then he said, "I guess I could give him a mild sedative. It will put him to sleep fast and he won't know it when we take him to the OR."

"Thanks doc." John put his hand on the other man's shoulder, before walking back to his sons. Giving Dean a nod, he let his hand run through Sam's hair, "Don't worry, Dean will be right here with you."

Dean saw the doctor walk up to the IV line with a syringe in his hand. Connecting it to the line, he slowly pushed the liquid into it. Sammy was still holding on to his brother's hand, his eyes never leaving Dean's face. The moment the medication hit his bloodstream; those hazels of his started to glass over and it became apparent that he had to fight to keep them open. It took only a few more seconds before he lost the fight and his drooping lids finally closed, his hand letting go of Dean's.

The older boy smiled and leaned down to press a kiss on his baby brother's forehead, "I'll be right by your side when you wake up, kiddo."

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It was really quiet, way too quiet and way too dark. As soon as the youngest Winchester started to become aware of the silent obscurity surrounding him, he started to move in an attempt to get away from it. Instantly he felt hands on him, holding him down with gently pressure, but it was the voice going with those hands that made him finally relax again.

"It's alright Sammy, I'm right here." Dean tried to reassure the younger boy.

He was surprised how fast things had started to change. The nurse had taken him to the post surgical observation unit and he just had settled into a chair beside his peacefully sleeping brother, when the kid had suddenly started to squirm around in the bed, letting out some scared whimpers. Immediately the older boy had jumped on his feet and had carefully held his brother down, making sure he wouldn't hurt himself.

Continuing to whisper soothing words into his ears, he noticed how Sam slowly relaxed and his eyes started to flutter a few times before at last they opened.

"You here…" He managed to blurt out, even though his voice was so hoarse, no one but Dean would have understood it. But that was alright, because he was the only one who needed to.

"Yeah, what did you think? I would break my promise?" The older boy smirked then took a cup from the stand beside him, "Here have some ice, it will help so you won't turn into 'Satchmo'." He chuckled at the confused look in the younger kid's eyes, picturing his brother as a dark-skinned Jazz musician. Obviously Sam had no idea who Louis Armstrong, nicknamed Satchmo was, "Never mind, just take the ice."

He let the frozen chips glide off the spoon and into his little brother's mouth. Smiling at the way the little guy savored the moisture, he repeated the procedure several times until Sam shook his head.

"Thanks, I had enough now."

"Guess it helped, you sound a lot better. Why don't you go back to sleep now?" He suggested."

"But I just woke up Dean." Sam protested.

"Yeah, but you look like you could use a few more hours. I'll stay right here with you, so you don't have anything to worry about."

The younger boy wanted to protest some more, but thought better of it, when a large yawn escaped him. Maybe he really could sleep for a little bit longer. And Dean would make sure things were alright. Before he knew it, his breathing evened out and he fell back into a dreamless sleep.

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The doctor decided it would be better for Sam to stay another night in the hospital. Due to the obvious violence of the fall, he thought the child needed the extra observation time, even though his head scan had been clear. Yet sometimes even the most advanced technology didn't show everything.

During the whole stay Dean didn't leave his brother's side other than for short bathroom breaks. Not even his father could convince him to leave. The older boy practically knew what Sam wanted or needed before the kid himself was aware of it. Although always attentive when his baby brother was sick, the guilt over causing the injuries continued to eat away at him and it didn't help that Sammy had become very quiet now.

Even John noticed the total change in his youngest behavior but put it off to the pain medication. Initially Dean agreed with him, until he began to notice the occasional fearful looks Sam threw at him and their father, when he thought they wouldn't see it. It made an instant red flag go up in the back of his mind and only the almost constant presence of one of the nurses kept him from questioning the younger boy about it. But he made his mind up this would change as soon as they would get home. Something was wrong and he needed to find out what it was.

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After bringing Sam home late morning the next day, a light lunch and a long nap for the younger boy, Dean decided it was time to get his brother to talk. John was busy in the kitchen putting away items, after just returning home from a grocery run and so there was no one to interrupt the boys.

Sam was propped up in bed, using his good arm to change pages on the book he had perched against his pulled up thighs. Looking up for just a moment when his brother entered the room, he went back to reading, thinking Dean was only there to get something from his side of the room. So he was really surprised when the older kid sat down on the bed beside him.

"Hey there kiddo, good to see you read again, guess that means your head is back to its normal geeky mess?" Dean teased him with a smirk.

"Guess so…" Sam responded.

"How is your arm? Does it still hurt?"

"Only a little, the immobilizer really helps." The younger boy stated, trying to go back to reading.

Dean reached over and closing the book, he pulled it away from his brother.

"Hey, I was reading that!" Sam protested, trying to reach for the volume.

"You can continue later, first I have to talk to you." His brother told him and leaving no room for further protest, he continued, "I was wondering what's wrong, I mean I know you got hurt and it really freaked you out, but you are just so quiet and sometimes you seem outright scared."

For a moment Sam paled, before the heat rushed up in his face and colored his cheeks a bright red. He turned his eyes downwards to not have to look at the older boy and started to play with the blanket.

"Okay Sammy, you know I won't laugh at you and I also won't be mad, no matter what it is. All I want is to help you." Dean assured him, although on edge inside, he put on a patient face as he gently put his hand on the younger boy's shoulder.

There was a long pause, before Sam, still finding the blue blanket on his bed extremely interesting, finally started to talk, "There is something wrong with me." He stopped again, this time glancing up at Dean.

"Why would you think that?"

"Well, I just know you and dad have been acting kinda strange lately. You let me do so many things I wanna do and I even get to do my home work before I have to train. And in the evening I get to go to bed early but even then I'm really tired in the daytime and then I wake up and I'm standing on the sink and I have no idea how I got there."

Pausing once again, he swallowed hard and Dean could see the fear appear in his expressive blue-green orbs, at the same time as a single tear spilled over and rolled down his cheek.

There was a tremble in his voice, when he finally spoke again, "Dean, please tell me the truth, am I gonna die?"

Dean's heart broke for his brother when he realized the truth, what they thought would keep the little boy from worrying, had backfired and caused him even more pain than the truth would have. _'Stupid, stupid, stupid, how we could ever think Sammy wouldn't pick up on something being wrong.'_ He scolded himself.

"No Sammy, you're not gonna die, not for a very long time."

"You promise?"

"Yeah kiddo, I promise!" Dean pledged.

There was a sigh of release from the younger boy, "Okay, but what else is going on then?"

"I think it's my turn to explain." John interrupted as he stepped into the room. He had overheard the last part of the conversation, when coming out of the bathroom, because Dean forgot to shut the door all the way. Initially he didn't want to intrude, but now he decided it was time to lift some of the load from his eldest' shoulders and taking it on himself.

He moved closer and sat down on the other side of the bed. Rubbing the stubble on his chin, he said, "First of all, before I tell you, I want you to not be afraid, because it's really not that bad. A few weeks ago I found out that you are sleepwalking…"

"I'm sleepwalking?" Sam interrupted his eyes wide with surprise.

"Yeah, I saw you one night; well first both of us saw you but we didn't know you weren't awake. But later you did it again and that time I knew there was no way you would have acted the way you did, if you were awake." His father explained.

"What did I do?"

John cringed, he should have seen that question coming and there was no way to avoid telling his youngest the truth now.

"Ahem, you…, you peed on the floor in the living room."

Sam's face turned flaming red and Dean hurried to throw in, "Nothing to be ashamed off, you didn't know you were doing it."

The littlest Winchester remained silent and John continued his explanation, "I did some research and found some of the things that a common with sleepwalking. So Dean and I safeguarded the house and decided not to tell you, so you wouldn't worry. Now I know that was wrong."

"But you were just trying to help me." Sam whispered, still embarrassed by what he had done while asleep.

"Guess so. Anyway, I also found out what we could do to try and help you to get over the thing and that's why we made all those changes to your schedule. It didn't work very well though, at least not yet, you still were up at least twice every night. And the reason why you were so tired during the day was because of the sleepwalking. It seems like even though you are sleeping, you are really not getting any rest."

Although slightly disappointed that all the changes were because of him sleepwalking, but at the same time relieved that he wasn't really sick and that his father really cared enough to do all of this for him, Sam said, "Thanks dad and thanks Dean, for trying to help me."

"Right, great help, I knew exactly what not to do and then I startled you when you stood on the sink. Great help I was."

Dean scolded himself, still eaten up by guilt over causing Sam getting hurt. He let his head hang low, not wanting to see the disappointment in the kid's face. So he was even more surprised, when an arm snaked around his neck and a smaller body was pressed against his.

He felt the softness of his brother's thick chocolate colored mop against his, as the younger boy whispered, "Its okay Dean, I'm not mad at you, so please don't be mad at yourself. I'm sorry I scared you by climbing up there."

Dean looked up at his father for confirmation of what he thought he just heard, just as he gently wrapped his arms around his little brother, making sure not to hurt his shoulder. Seeing the slight nod, he knew his dad heard the same words he did.

"Alright, so it wasn't my fault but it wasn't your fault either. It was just a stupid accident." He said, still somewhat in disbelieve. The little guy never seized to surprise him.

"Okay Dean." Sammy agreed with a yawn, snuggling closer to his brother.

"I promise you, we figure this out, Sammy. Until then I make sure nothing else will happen to you, even if I have to stay awake all night." Dean said with determination in his voice.

"Dean, I don't think Sammy can hear you." John smiled, "He fell asleep a moment ago."

For a moment the teenager held his baby brother, remembering the times when the boy was only a toddler and would wake up screaming at night. He would snuggle against him in almost the same way, slowly going back to sleep while Dean rocked him. Gently carding his hand to the younger boy's locks, he gently laid him down and pressed a kiss on his cheek.

"Sleep well squirt, I won't let anything happen to you."

"Neither will I, promise!" His father said as he also leaned down to gently kiss his youngest.

TBC

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_So what you do think? Still alright? There is some more little Sam to come before we go into the present. Please let me know what you think. Hugs, Vonnie_


	4. Chapter 4

_To all of you, who have been following, reviewing this story and putting it on alert, thank you, you are awesome. Here is the next chapter. As promised, it closes the book on little Sam and begins the story of big Sam. It's only the Prelude. Hope you like it. _

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Sam Winchester might have been small for his age and at times maybe even a little behind in his social skills, which could at least in part be blamed on the constant change in schools and neighborhoods, but he certainly wasn't lacking in intelligence. Being under strict orders from the doctor and even stricter ones from the two older members in his family to stay in bed, except for bathroom privileges and mealtimes, for at least a week, he had more than enough time to think about what happened. It scared him that he was walking in his sleep, but what bothered him even more was the distress it caused his family. So he decided that it was time to take things in his own hands.

Now that he knew what he was looking for, it didn't take him long to find the books about sleepwalking his brother and father kept hidden from him. Where most other kids his age would have taken one look at them and put them away again, mainly because they weren't about adventures or kid detectives and the language was way above their reading level, the youngest Winchester actually found them exciting and even understood what they were talking about.

He read through the first two books in record time, finding that they pretty much were identical. The third though went into some causes, which the others had labeled as rare and thus unimportant. After reading a particular chapter, he closed the book and laid it to the side, sliding down in the bed until he was flat on his back, he stared at the ceiling. That's how Dean found him two hours later, when he returned from school.

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When the older Winchester boy entered the room he shared with Sam, his big brother senses instantly went into overdrive. Looking at the way the kid was ogling the top of the room, like there was one of Michelangelo's masterpieces painted on it, was a clear indication that something was wrong. Pulling a can of root beer out from behind his back, he held it out to the younger boy.

"Here, got something for you. It's still cold; I bought it at the convenience store on the corner." He said.

For a moment he thought he was being ignored but then suddenly Sam's big hazel orbs looked straight at him, "Dean, have you ever kept a secret from someone, because you thought telling them about it would make them feel bad, but then it turned out, by not telling you actually made things worse?"

The question came out of the blue and caught the older brother off balance. For a moment he stood there with the soda can still held out, unsure what to say. After several seconds he let his arm fall to his side and sat down on the bed.

"Yeah, dad and I just did, remember?" He reminded his brother.

"But that was only to protect me. What I did was much worse!" Sam turned his head to the other side, suddenly feeling too ashamed to face the brother he idolized.

Dean's eyes filled with confusion, he couldn't imagine what Sammy could have done that was so bad. Knowing how tough the kid was on himself, he said, "Just tell me about it, it can be that bad."

"It's my fault that I'm sleepwalking." The younger boy said in a monotonous voice.

"What? How could that even be possible? You can't make yourself sleepwalk, unless you pretend and believe me, you are not good enough to fool dad."

"It's not that," the younger boy's voice was hardly above a whisper.

"So what is it? Please Sammy; you know you can tell me!" Dean tried to encourage him.

Although his face was still turned away from him, the firstborn Winchester could tell his brother was fighting with tears. Impulsively he reached out to stroke his hand through the kid's hair but at the last moment pulled back, realizing he needed to give him some space. After several minutes his patience paid off.

"I lied to you and dad, I pretended I liked hunting." A sob tore out of the little boy's throat, and his shoulders shook as he tried to regain enough composure to continue. At last he said with a still shaky voice, "I hate it, it totally scares me and now that I know what's going on, it scares me even more, when you and dad leave. What if you don't come back?"

Now Sam was openly crying, tears flowing down his face and Dean could no longer hold back. He carefully pulled his baby brother into his arm, holding him as tight as he dared without hurting him.

Waiting until the sobs subsided enough so Sammy could hear him, he said, "It's not gonna happen, we'll always come back." He soothingly pulled his fingers through the shaggy mob of hair, "Why didn't you tell us though? I mean there is nothing wrong with being scared."

The younger kid sniffed, "No, I couldn't, I didn't want dad to be disappointed in me."

"Dad wouldn't be disappointed. Just wait, I'll get him, he can tell you himself."

He tried to settle his brother back on the pillow, yet Sam hung on to him with his good arm, like he was hanging on for dear life, "No, please don't, please promise you won't tell dad, ever. Please Dean; I don't want him to know."

Again tears ran down the nine year old's cheeks, as he buried his face into the older boy's chest, his despair making Dean's eyes brim with moisture also. Holding on to him, he soothingly rubbed circle on Sammy's back, whispering reassuring words into his brother's ears.

"I promise Sammy, I won't tell dad. Please, just please settle own before your head starts hurting again."

After the smaller boy calmed, he continued, "I still don't understand, why you would think dad would be disappointed?" Seeing panic light up in Sam's expressive hazels, he hurried to add, "But I won't tell him. I just think we have to talk about this a little more.

Look, some of those dudes that dad ganks are pretty scary, I know that, but the ghost that brings down a Winchester hasn't been invented yet. You've got to believe that!"

"But sometimes dad comes home bleeding pretty bad and last month that spirit in Colorado threw you against a tree and you passed out for five minutes."

Dean could tell his little brother was still not convinced, so he said, "Kiddo that just comes with the job. I was fine though, right? And dad always healed too, didn't he? It's just with any other job, they all have their risks."

"Not all, teachers don't have risks!" Sam protested.

For a moment Dean didn't have a comeback. Why in the world did his baby brother have to be so smart? Suddenly he smirked though, "Sure they do, they get sick a lot because they pick up all the germs from kid's snotty noses and many end up in the psych ward because the kid's drove them insane."

Sammy's eyes went wide, "No way!"

"Way, you should see those facilities, they are full of teachers. Why do you think you thing we get so many holidays and vacations? It's so the teachers can recover and get treatment."

"What about Ms. Whincup? She seems pretty normal."

The older boy knew how much Sam admired his teacher, so he said, "She is one of the few, who are doing pretty well, but I heard last year she took off several weeks during the school year and just disappeared for a while, so she could get better before she would go all ballistic."

"I guess I won't be a teacher then. What about doctors?"

"Die from weird diseases they get from their patients."

"Waiters?"

"Slip on stuff people spill."

"Mail men?"

"Dude, you have no idea how many get bit by dogs and get rabies."

"But dogs have to get vaccinated." The little boy argued.

"Yeah, but you don't really think there is a vet out there that is brave enough to give one of those really mean dogs a shot?"

Sam couldn't dispute that. He looked admiring at his big brother. Dean was so smart; he really knew a lot of stuff.

"Okay, so maybe hunting isn't that bad after all. I give it another chance then."

Dean smiled, he was glad Sammy was feeling this way, "Good, but you have to talk to me and let me know when you get scared. You know, there is nothing wrong with being scared, I'm scared sometimes and I think even dad is once in a while. So just let me know and we can get through it together, okay little dude?"

"Okay", the younger boy agreed, "you are really the most awesome big brother anyone could ever have." He added, snuggling a little closer against his brother with a sudden feeling of contentment.

Looking down in amazement at his baby brother, Dean had one of his famous one liners on the tip of his tongue, but at the last minute decided against it. Instead he said, "You're not so bad yourself, squirt!"

He still wasn't sure, if not confiding into their dad was really the right thing, but he just couldn't betray Sam's trust. In the end he decided he would just go with it for now. If his little brother wouldn't talk to him and the sleepwalking continued, he could always try again to convince him that talking to their father would be the right thing to do.

As he would find out it seemed like he made the right choice. Not only did Sam share his fears with him from then on, there were also no further incidences of sleepwalking for the little guy. And while John thought it had to do with the changes they made and maybe the talk they had after Sam returned home from the hospital, Dean knew better. Seemed like his geeky genius little brother had figured out the cause and cure for his own problem.

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**South Dakota, Fall 2006**

Bobby Singer sat in his old rocker on the porch and looked out over his salvage yard. He enjoyed the view, because where most people would see only junk, he saw potential. There were parts to sell, parts to fix up other cars and even cars, which with a lot of work would shine in their original beauty again.

Today though he didn't see any of this, mainly because his thoughts were busy trying to work out the problem he was facing right now. Actually it wasn't just one problem, because there were two Winchesters. And that was the dilemma, there used to be three, but now there were only two of them. It seemed almost unbelievable, after being kidnapped by the yellow eyed demon, rescued by his sons, possessed by the YED, shot in the leg by Sam, who refused to kill his father and hurt in an accident that totaled the Impala, the elder Winchester died of what the doctors deemed a heart attack.

Bobby knew better than to believe it was that simple and so did the two younger Winchesters. It was too much of a coincidence that John had sent his youngest to him to get all the fixings for a demon summoning and that the next morning Dean came out of a coma, from which he wasn't supposed to wake up, shortly before his younger brother found their dead father on the floor in an empty hospital room.

"Coincident my butt", the grizzled hunter lifted his baseball cap and stroked his hair back before replacing it again. He was willing to eat dog food for a month, if he that yellow eyed bastard wasn't behind the whole thing.

"Dammit Johnny, you just had to bail out and leave me to pick up the pieces." He swore out loud.

Even several weeks after he brought the boys to his salvage yard, Bobby still had no idea how to put them back together. Dean was ready to explode with pinned up anger, but wouldn't even talk to him, no less to his baby brother. All he did, besides dragging Sammy from one hunt to another, was spent his time putting the Impala back together.

And Sam, well the older man was even less sure about what was going on with him. In the beginning the kid followed his brother like a chick did his mother, trying to get him to open up and talk. After Dean continuously rejected his efforts and even got mad at him, so now the younger man wouldn't talk at all. Well, that wasn't quite right, he did talk, but only when asked, which meant it was limited to a few words and only to Bobby, because Dean didn't asked his brother anything. He avoided him like he was a leper.

So here he was, a man, who'd chosen a solitary life on purpose, trying to deal with to young men, boys, who were severely traumatized. Not something he ever wanted or even was prepared to do and yet, he would be damned, if he wouldn't at least try. Those boys might not be of his flesh and blood, but they were as close to it as it would ever get.

TBC

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_So what do your think? Liked the ending, hated the beginning? Or maybe the other way around? Or maybe you hated or loved both? Let me know, please. Hugs, Vonnie_


	5. Chapter 5

_Like always, thanks to all who reviewed, put this on alert or favorite or just simply read. Here is an early update, especially for Ritu, who asked for it so nicely. It was only possible because I was a little under the weather today. So I hope you will enjoy._

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Dean Winchester hurried down the stairs with an angry expression on his face. It was only six o'clock in the evening and any other day he would still be outside working on his baby. Today he had to quit early though, due to a sudden onset of heavy rain. So he spent the rest of the afternoon watching cartoons on Bobby's old TV set. At least until about an hour ago, when his brother came out of the library and sat down on one of the upholstered arm chairs. Within minutes the older man turned the television off and left to go upstairs.

After taking a long, hot shower, Dean settled down on his bed, trying to keep the memories of his father's death at bay. As usual he wasn't very successful; John's last words were sneaking back into his mind until they were all he could hear. It were those words that made it impossible for him to find peace ever since his father died.

Dean had always prided himself in being a good son. Not because he felt he was better than his kid brother, who went off to Stanford, but because he truly never had any doubts that his father was right. Following John was his choice, his free will. And maybe that's why he was so stricken by the command his father left him with. Any good son would expect his father to leave him with words like, "I love you son." Or maybe, "I'm proud of you." Not his dad though, no, he told him he needed to save his baby brother or kill him. Just like that and then he went out of the room without any further explanation and died.

Now he had to live with this and not only that, he had to face Sam every day. How in the world was he expected to do that, while pretending nothing happened?

The opening of the door pulled the older Winchester out of his thoughts. Sitting up, he growled, "Dammit Sam, do you have to follow me everywhere?"

"Sorry, just spilled some soda on my shirt, so I thought I change." Sam looked at him with sorrow written all over his hazel orbs.

For a moment Dean had an apology on his tongue but he swallowed it down and instead let his anger take over again, "Fine, I guess if I can't have any privacy here, I'm going out." Taking his leather coat, he stormed out of the room.

Walking towards the front door, he heard Bobby's voice calling from the kitchen, "Where you going?"

"Out, I need a drink!"

"You shouldn't go to town in this weather. It's been raining for two hours straight and the weather report just said we already got over five inches. They are expecting flash floods and it's not uncommon for the road between here and town to flood, when we have this much rain. You could get stuck in town." The older hunter warned.

"Doesn't matter, I can always get a room for tonight." He picked up the keys for the old rusty Chevy Malibu Bobby let him borrow and hurried out the door, before his friend could keep him from leaving.

The grizzled hunter shook his head, "Damn idjit." He mumbled before turning back to check on the chili he was cooking for supper. Guess it would be only Sammy and him tonight.

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Supper was eaten in silence. Bobby ate and Sam pretended to and neither of them was talking. From time to time the older man snuck in a look at the kid, who was sitting with his head down, the long fringe of his chocolate colored hair covering his eyes, this left arm up on the table and his hand against his head like it was too heavy to hold up without assist. His other hand held the spoon, which right now was stirring around in the bowl in front of him and from time to time going up to his mouth to keep up the pretence of eating.

Bobby let out a quiet sigh. He had no idea what to do, how to get Sam to talk. That was usually Dean's field of expertise, but the older Winchester was conveniently absent, like he usually was in the last few weeks. He avoided his younger brother like the kid was infected with pestilence.

Knowing that he wouldn't come up with a solution tonight, but needing to do something, the hunter got up and went over to the fridge. Taking two bottles out of it, he closed it again and held one bottle out to his young friend.

"Beer?"

"Thanks Bobby." For the first time tonight Sam lifted his head and gazed at the older man for just a moment, before looking down at the bottle in his hand. Twisting the top off, he took a large gulp then set it down on the table.

"Sam, is there anything I can do to help?" Bobby started, "I know I'm not Dean, but if you need to talk, I will listen, you know that."

"Thanks, but I'm fine." The young man didn't look up, "There is really nothing anyone can do."

He stood up, mumbling something about research, before he disappeared in the library. The old hunter sighed again, as he picked up Sam's bowl and carried it to the sink. The kid ate hardly enough to nourish a fly, not to mention the six foot four giant that he was.

After washing what few dishes there were, he made his way out to the living room and sat down with his own research. He was helping out Joshua and a few of his friends, who were on a hunt in Colorado but were stumped by what kind of creature they were actually dealing with. So they'd called on him for assist.

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It was short after midnight, when the salvage yard owner decided to call it a night and go to bed. The younger Winchester had disappeared into the bedroom; he usually shared with Dean, about two hours ago. Making his way into the bathroom, Bobby brushed his teeth and was just about to open the door, when a loud noise and a scream, followed by several thuds startled him. Without further thinking, he threw the door open and ran toward the stairs from which the noises came.

In the darkness, the only light coming from the bathroom, he initially couldn't see what happened, but a moan from the bottom made him immediately reach for the light switch. As the darkness disappeared, the grizzled hunter could make out Sam, who was lying on the ground at the bottom of the stairs. Hurrying to crouch down at the younger man's side, he started assessing the unmoving form for injuries. Finding no broken bones and receiving only a few minor moans, Bobby let out a breath, he didn't know he was holding. Looked like the kid gotten lucky.

There was another moan coming from Sam's lips and his lids started to open. Turning his head Bobby for the first time could see the blood on the side of face that had been hidden from him until now. Although it looked like a lot, experience had taught the hunter that even the smallest laceration in this area could produce a large amount of blood. Without loosing his cool, he put his hands to both sides of Sam's face, before speaking with a steady voice.

"Sam…, Sam, look at me kid." He tried to get the attention of the young man, whose eyes were still shifting around without focus.

After several more seconds they finally came to a stop on the older man's face, "B'bby, wh't 'app'ned?" Glassy orbs now looked up at the hardened hunter.

"I was hoping you could tell me what happened." Bobby said, "You fell down the stairs."

"Fell down stairs?"

"Yeah, took quite a tumble, scared the shit out of me." The older man confessed.

"S'rry" he said, at the same time asking, "Dean?"

The kid sat up, before Bobby could stop him and it was only because of his fast reaction that he didn't fall back, hitting his head hard on the floor again. Instead he slumped against the older man, his eyes rolling back into his head for just a moment. A gently slap on his cheek brought him back and he looked up into his friend's face.

"Dean?" He repeated.

"Easy there kiddo, Dean isn't here right now." Bobby soothed, "Looks like you got a concussion here. You know the drill. What's your name?"

"Sam Winchstr…" The last name came out slightly slurred but the older man was satisfied with the answer.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty three…"

"Good, what year is it?"

Instead of an answer, he just received a blank stare, "Dean…?"

"Yep, definitely concussed." Bobby mumbled then louder he said, "Dean isn't here."

"Where?"

"He went to town; it's raining, so the road is flooded. He is stuck there for tonight."

"Oh…" Sam suddenly looked like a lost little boy.

"It's alright kid, he'll be fine. Let's get you up and over to the couch, so I can patch you up."

Bobby hoisted the taller man up, which turned out much more difficult than he initially thought, mainly because all attempts of Sam to help actually made it harder for the smaller, more compact hunter. Only because of being used to strenuous work was he finally able to stand the kid up on his two feet, which was exactly the moment Sam chose to pass out again. Once more it was Bobby's fast reaction, who kept him from falling. Putting Sam's arm around his neck and holding on to it with one hand, while putting his other hand around the kid's waist; he managed to drag him over to the old worn out couch. Letting him down as gently as possible, he was glad to see the hazel eyes open again.

"Hey, no more sleeping, alright? I'll be right back, just gonna get the first aid kit."

He hurried off, returning within seconds with the kit, happy to find Sam didn't move and his eyes were still open.

"Okay, we'll have you fixed up in no time. Let me take a look at your head."

Sam looked at him with little understanding, "Dean?"

"No, Dean isn't here; remember he got stuck in town."

"Oh…"

Finding the source of the blood, the older man was relieved it turned out to be a fairly small laceration. After cleansing it with peroxide, he applied several steri-strips to approximate the edges and covered it with a non-stick gauze pad, securing it with a strip of tape. Giving his work a satisfied last look, he took a bottle of Tylenol from the kit. Opening it, he removed two tablets and without further thinking slid them into the younger man's mouth, before pressing a glass of water, he brought from the kitchen, when he got the first aid kit, against his lips.

"Swallow!" He instructed as he tipped the glass just enough for Sam to take a sip.

The younger man did as told, then looked at Bobby, "What happened?"

"You fell down the stairs."

"Fell down the stairs? Why?"

"I don't know. You went to bed and for some reason you got up again and tried to go down stairs." Bobby explained patiently.

"Down the stairs?" Sam let his eyes roam around, making it clear how confused he really was, "But we are down stairs."

Bobby huffed a little, but then pulled himself together, knowing the young man wasn't really with it, "We are now, but you were in your bedroom earlier remember?

"I was?" Glassy puppy dog eyes looked innocently at him.

"Yes Sam, you went to bed several hours ago." The hunter explained.

"Oh…"the young Winchester said, then like an afterthought he added, "Dean?"

"No, he isn't here; he went to town and is stuck there." Bobby explained again.

There was a moment of silence and it seemed that the answer finally got through to Sam's muddled brain. But that lasted only for a moment then tears spilled from the large hazels, "He hates me!"

The sight of a concussed and confused Sam was already getting to the hardened hunter, but a concussed, confused and heartbroken Sam was more than he could take. Letting out a curse, he slapped his hand over his mouth, when he realized what he just did because sobs were shaking the tall young man and the tears now were running down his face, making him look all but five years old.

"Y…you mad at me too?" the kid asked in between sobs, sniffling desperately.

Bobby took a couple tissues from the box on the table and gently wiped Sam's eyes and nose, then wrapped his arms around the young man, "No Sammy, I'm not mad at you. I couldn't be. And Dean, he doesn't hate you, he is just angry with himself."

He knew that his words probably didn't get all the way through to the kid, but it seemed that the soothing tone of his voice and his gently embrace at least calmed him down. Either that or he simply forgotten already, why he cried in the first place. Again Bobby cursed, but this time was smart enough to do it only in his mind, '_Dammit Dean, of all days to leave, you had to choose the one why did it have to be this one, you're brother really could use you right now and so could I.'_

He sighed as he released the younger man and helped him lie down, making him as comfortable as possible on the too short piece of furniture. Watching the now almost green orbs close immediately, he stroked some of the stray hair out of the pale face. This was going to be a long night. Sam's concussion was worse than he thought and there was no way to get him to the hospital. So he would just have to stay awake and check the kid frequently. Hopefully this would be enough to get them through the night.

TBC

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	6. Chapter 6

_Wow, I made it, I am posting another early update, this time by request of many of you. This might be it for a little while. I'm going to be pretty busy for a little bit. I'm working on putting a work shop together about death and dying. I know sounds terrible but I have a passion for this. It's actually gonna be called "It's all about life" I want to teach people how to deal with this issue and help their friends and loved one's live to the fullest until the last moment. Anyway, the only way that concerns you is that I won't be updating early, but I will try to update on time. Thanks for your understanding._

_Oh and thanks to everyone, I see there are still new Alerts and Favorites, this is really overwhelming. Thanks to Jessica, who reviewed and didn't sign in, so I couldn't sent her a personal note. Now on to the chapter._

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It was early afternoon, when the rusty blue Malibu made its way up the Singer drive way, sounding like the engine would either give out any second now or blow the whole car and its driver to kingdom come. Skidding to an abrupt halt in front of the house, Dean Winchester exited the vehicle and made his way up the steps to the front door. Finding it locked surprised him a little, Bobby never kept the door locked during the daytime, as ghosts, demons and most other supernatural entities wouldn't be stopped by locked doors anyway and any other guests usually were announced well ahead of entering by Rumsfield, Bobby's old guard dog. For a second a strange feeling overcame the young hunter, but he shook it off, putting it down to lack of sleep.

Finding the right key, Dean let himself in and strolled into the kitchen, grabbing the fixings for a sandwich and a soda from the fridge. Enjoying his lunch, he made plans for the afternoon. After the torrential rains of the last night, it was sunny today and he would be able to work on the Impala again. While in town he found out that one of the parts he needed finally came in and he would be able to finish work on the engine by tonight, which left him with only the body work before his baby would at last be roadworthy again. That, the five hundred dollars he won playing poker and the company he kept last night, put him in a much better mood then he was in when he left the house the prior evening.

Making his way through the living room to go upstairs and change clothes, he noted the slight disarray in the room. There was a blanket on the floor in front of the couch and the first aid kit was open on the table. Several bloody gauze pads were strewn around and a bottle of Tylenol was lying on its side with the lid off, some of the tablets beside it, some rolled down onto the floor. Now Bobby wasn't the most organized guy in the world, but his anal attentive kid brother was. Sam would never let things lie around like this. A sting of worry spiked through him, something was wrong.

The older Winchester whipped his phone out of his pocket and hit the speed dial for Sam. Getting only the voicemail message he hung up and dialed Bobby's number. After ending up with the same thing, he cursed and closed the phone.

"Fine, guess no one thinks I need to know, so it's obviously nothing to worry about."

Allowing his pent up anger to override his concern, he walked upstairs and changed his clothes before going back outside to start work on his baby.

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He worked for an hour, when he heard the roaring of Bobby's Chevelle come up the drive way. Pretending he didn't notice anything but silently grateful that Bobby apparently only had been to town and taken Sam with him after the road was open again, he was startled, when the salvage yard owner called out for him.

"Dean, get your butt over here, I could use some help."

Wiping his hands on an old town the older Winchester walked over to the car. Seeing the hunter lean into the passenger side of the car and expecting his friend to hand him a paper bag with groceries, he was surprise when he came out backwards with a groan, having his barely conscious little brother hanging in his arms.

"What happened?"

"Later", Bobby mumbled, "help me get him in the house."

Between the two of them, the two men managed to move the youngest Winchester inside and lay him down on the couch. While Bobby picked the blanket up and covered him with it, Dean gently put a pillow underneath his brother's head. Noting the gauze pad on the side of Sam's forehead, the older brother suddenly let his head hang. He still didn't know what happened, but he knew that he wasn't there when it did. He failed Sam. Stroking his hand over the kid's unruly mop, he found himself faced by slightly glassy and very skeptical hazel orbs.

"D'n…?"

"Hey Sammy, how you doin'?" Dean's voice was laced with concern.

The shadow of a smile moved over younger man's face at the sound of the familiar nick name. He tried to move but let out a groan instead, "What happened? ...hurts."

Leaning into his line of vision, Bobby answered, "You probably don't remember, I took you to the emergency room. You were so out of it, they had to give you a sedative so you would lie still for the scan."

"Scan, he needed a scan?" Dean started to sound very irate, "What in the world happened?"

Bobby smiled this sounded so much more like the old Dean, "He is going to be just fine. Doc said it's a mild concussion, although the way he acted after he fell down the stairs I would have thought it was more than that."

"You fell down the stairs?" The older Winchester stared at his injured brother with skepticism written in his green eyes.

Instead of Sam, it was once again Bobby who answered, "He doesn't remember what happened, but the doc said that's not unusual. Should have heard the crash, when he tumbled down those stairs in the dark."

There was a moment of silence, during which Dean tried to figure out what could have caused his younger brother, the same kid who could sneak through a strange decrepit house in complete darkness without making a single noise, to be clumsy enough to fall down familiar stairs. Coming to no solution, he felt anger well up within him.

"I can't believe it. You did this on purpose, just to get my attention, didn't you?"

Watching Sam, who was looking at his brother with a blank expression, unable to comprehend the accusation that had just been thrown at him; Bobby moved his eyes to Dean.

"You can't be serious! What in the world would make you think Sam would fall down the stairs just to get your attention?"

"Don't you get it, Bobby? That's what he's been trying to do all along. He wants me to talk to him, pour my heart out to him. Well I got news for you Sam Winchester; I don't need you or anybody else to talk to. I'm doing just fine."

Without saying another word, Dean stomped out of the house, slamming the door behind him, leaving an astounded Bobby and devastated little brother behind.

The older hunter finally regained his balance and crouched down beside the couch, "He didn't mean it, Sam. He is just confused right now."

"It's alright; you don't have to apologize for him, Bobby. I know he meant what he said and I guess I deserve it too. I should know better than try to make him do something he doesn't want to." He let out a yawn, which was just a little too pronounced to be real, "I'm really tired, if you don't mind, I would like to sleep for a while."

Seeing the glistening of tears in the large hazels, Bobby wasn't fooled by Sam's speech. Unsure what to do though, he just said, "Alright boy, you get some sleep. I hope you feel a little better when you wake up. Let me know, if you got a headache, doc gave me some of the good stuff for you."

He ruffled Sam's hair then pulled the blanket a little higher around him. The younger Winchester closed his eyes, unable to keep the thought at bay that it usually would be Dean, who performed this task. Turning onto his side, he allowed himself to slide into the darkness of sleep, hoping that it would keep the feelings of loss from overwhelming him.

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The next few days went by in silence. Upon Sam's request Bobby helped the younger Winchester move his things into the library. The grizzled hunter had set up a rollaway bed, which he borrowed from one of his friends in town. It wasn't very comfortable, but it was long enough to fit Sam's tall frame and the kid was used to much worse sleep accommodations.

Dean hadn't spoken another word to his brother since the incident and although Bobby had tried to convince him he was wrong with his accusations, the older Winchester was not to be deterred. He spent most his time working on the Impala and ate supper in silence. Still, he was grateful that Sam took continuing headaches as an excuse not to eat in the kitchen with the two others.

Bobby was about ready to scream and if it would have made a difference he would have certainly done so. As it was, he knew it wouldn't make any difference. He just hoped that the bond the brothers shared would be strong enough to eventually get them back together; in the meantime he cursed John Winchester for what he laid upon his children's shoulders.

It was a few days after the accident, when Bobby started to notice some odd things going on. At first he wasn't even sure what it was, but then he realized that the back door wasn't all the way closed when he first got up in the morning. The next day the salt lines were disturbed, but the door was locked and on the next there were several broken glasses on the floor in the kitchen.

Talking to Sam, the older hunter found out that the kid didn't sleep well the last few nights, which really didn't come as a surprise, as he had dark smudges under his eyes. He explained he had gone to the kitchen a few times to get some water but had noticed nothing unusual. Dean reported he hadn't left his room all night, although he admitted to not sleeping well either. As it stood, Bobby was facing a riddle. Even with the salt lines disturbed, there was no indication of any supernatural power entering the house. Finally he decided to spend the next night down stairs on the couch with Rumsfield on his side.

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The house was quiet and only the small reading lamp on the table beside the couch illuminated the room. Bobby Singer had fallen asleep sitting up with his shotgun on his lab, his chin touching his chest. Not even the tall figure moving across the room in front of him could disturb his slumber. Rumsfield, the rottweiler, lifted his head up, but laid it back down without making a noise as soon as he realized it was only his friend Sam.

The young man made his way to the kitchen but didn't stop there, instead he unlocked the backdoor and walked out into the cool autumn night. Slowly he moved towards the black car that for years had been the only real home his brother and he had known. His steps appeared hesitant and unsteady, like he wasn't really sure of what he was doing. At last he came to a halt by where the back passenger side door would usually be. Completely destroyed by the impact of the truck, Dean had removed it and right now the opening was only covered by a plastic sheet. Moving it to the side, Sam crawled inside and curled up on the seat.

It was several hours later, when the older hunter awoke from a noise coming from the kitchen. Startled he jumped up and ran into the other room, the shot gun gripped tightly in his hands. Turning the light on and lifting his weapon, he stared at Sam, who stood in the middle of the room, a glass of milk in his hand.

"Dammit kid, how did you sneak by, without me waking up?"

The younger man ogled him for a moment then took a sip from the glass before setting it on the table. Mumbling something like "too tired for this", he walked by the hunter, slightly bumping him with his shoulders. Turning around, Bobby made his way back to the living room, just catching a glimpse of the tall kid disappearing into his current sleeping quarter.

Looking down at his companion, the old hunter grumbled, "Some watch dog you are! Well might as well call it a night and go to bed. Those old bones are not what they used to be. My soft bed will feel mighty good right now."

TBC

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So not a lot of action but I hope you will still like it. I promise more limpness to come. Let me know how you feel about it. Hugs, Vonnie


	7. Chapter 7

_Sorry, no early post this time but at least I managed to update on time. Hope you will enjoy this one. Thanks to all of you, you really keep me going. _

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The next few days were unusually cold and a slushy mix made working outside extremely uncomfortable, if not impossible. It wasn't until a week later, when the morning dawned with beautiful sunshine and blue sky. Even the temperatures rose above normal for this time of year and for the first time in several weeks Dean Winchester was out of bed before ten in the morning. After a quick breakfast he took his second cup of coffee outside and started to work on repairing the damage to the Impala's body.

For several moments he stood beside the black car, his hand gliding down the uneven surface of the banged up chassis, his mind once more going back to everything that happened since that fateful day.

"Dammit, it's just not fair. Why…, why did you have to do this to me? No explanation, just a cold hearted command - you bastard…"

Throwing the coffee cup against one of the salvaged cars, he bent over, both hands were cupped over his face and slid up into his hair. Finally he straightened out and facing heavenwards, a loud scream of anguish escaped his throat. At last his arms fell to his sides and he opened the eyes he kept shut tightly till then.

Astonished he looked at the figure in front of him, "Bobby…?"

The older man took a gulp from his own coffee cup then answered the question without it ever being asked, "I got here right when you threw the cup. Wanna talk about it?"

For just a split second the expression on Dean's face changed and Bobby thought he was going to talk, yet without warning he pressed his lips together and shook his head.

"Nothing to talk about!" He said tonelessly.

"What about your brother?" the grizzled hunter tried again.

"What about him?" Dean leaned against the Impala.

"Damn boy, get your head outta your butt. The kid is having a rough time. He lost his daddy too."

"Oh yeah, maybe he should've thought about dad a little sooner instead of always arguing with him. What he is trying to do now is too little too late. His grieving won't do dad any good. He doesn't need me to get through this." The older Winchester stated bitterly.

"Dean, you don't mean that." It wasn't a question, rather a statement.

"Oh yeah, just watch me!" He turned away and started to work on the car.

"Dean…" Bobby tried one more time.

"No, Bobby, I'm not doing this. If you wanna wipe his snotty nose, be my guest."

Putting the tool down he just picked up, he said, "I'm gonna go to town, pick up some parts, I won't be back until tonight or maybe tomorrow."

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The salvage yard owner spent the day doing repairs on the vehicle of his oldest customers, in the actual sense of the word, as Jim McGregor was 97 and drove a 1940 Chevy Convertible Street Rod, which he let no one but Bobby touch. As soon as it started to get dark he prepared dinner, deciding to go for grilled chicken, rice and a salad in the hope to entice the youngest Winchester into eating. He was glad to see his plan worked at least partially, when the kid ate half of his chicken and rice and all the salad.

Even though, Sam continued to be quiet, but agreed to a game of cards with the older man after helping with the clean up. A few hours and a couple of beers later the junior hunter excused himself and went to bed, leaving a musing Bobby behind. An experienced observer, he didn't miss the frequent glances in the direction of the door by the young man. He only hoped Dean would get home before it was getting too late. The experience from a few weeks back still stuck with him and although he knew it was unlikely Sam would fall down the stairs again just because his brother was gone, it still left him with an uncomfortable sensation. At least the kid was already downstairs now and so there was no need for him to climb the stairs.

The demon hunter spent a few more hours reading an old journal written by a 16th century Greek monk, who devoted his life to hunting down supernatural entities. Finally he gave up waiting and went to his room.

Usually not having any trouble going to sleep, he found that it evaded him tonight. After several hours of tossing and turning he finally gave up. Taking a look at the clock, it was almost two in the morning; he threw on his robe and walked down to the kitchen. Pouring himself a glass of milk and grabbing a few cookies, he made his way out to the living room and settled down on the couch. He picked his book up and started to search for the page he left off at, when the noise of an opening door made him drop it. He jumped up and turned at the same time.

"Dammit kid, you have to stop sneaking around like this in the middle of the night." He said, looking at Sam, who was coming out of the downstairs bathroom.

It took him a moment to take in the younger man's appearance. Naked, except of the towel wrapped around his slim waist, his dark hair a wet mess, it was obvious he'd just come out of the shower.

"A little late for a shower, or maybe it's a little early." He stated, chuckling slightly at the confused look on Sam's face, "Guess you couldn't sleep either? Why don't you get dressed and sit down, I get you some milk and cookies."

He walked off into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with the late night snack, almost dropping it, when he noticed Sam sitting on the couch, still wearing nothing but the towel. After a moment he caught himself and set the items down in front of the younger man. Taking a seat again, he looked at the younger man. From the way his ribs were sticking out it was clearly visible that the kid lost weight. Still, this wasn't the skinny boy, whose limps were way to long for his body, who sat in the same spot seven years ago. The boy in front of him was completely grown up. He was lean but muscular and his expressive face with the green-blue eyes and the chocolate colored fringe hanging into it assured Bobby he had probably just as many girls swooning over him as his older brother. The difference was that Dean knew and used it, while Sam couldn't care less. The kid blushed when a girl just gave him a suggestive look and even around here he would usually make sure he was dressed before leaving his room, which made the older man wonder even more about the kid sitting across from him at this moment.

"Why don't you drink your milk?" Bobby tried to encourage his friend. After a few moments he added, "Look Sam, I know Dean isn't making it easy right now, but maybe he really just needs some space."

Looking for a reaction from the quiet young man, but finding he just stared at him, he continued, "I know there isn't a lot I can say, but this is difficult for me too. You boys are like my own and I can't just sit by and watch you not talk to one another."

For a second he thought Sam wasn't going to answer, but suddenly the younger man cocked his head and said, "Dad didn't talk to me, he just left. Too little to late, can't do anything to make it better."

Bobby never thought he would hear these words come out of Sam's mouth just hours after Dean had said the same thing. It made him wonder, if they were really Sam's words, or if the older Winchester had said them to him. It broke his heart that it had gotten this bad between the two brothers.

"Sam…" The older hunter started but was interrupted when the kid threw his head back and started to laugh out loud. After a moment he straightened and said, "Remember when Rumsfeld was a puppy and chased the skunk into the house and it took you two weeks to get the smell out of the living room?"

Bobby remembered the occasion well; he had to throw out the rug on which the dog finally caught up with the odorous animal. Yet he was taken aback that the kid would bring this up now and laugh the way he did. It was clear Sam didn't want to get any further into the conversation about his father and brother, probably regretted already about opening up this far. He would have to have a lot of patience; if he went too fast he would probably just make things worse.

"Probably should call it a night and try to get at least a few hours of sleep, what d'ya think?"

Instead of answering, Sam stood up, the towel slipping of his slender hips and gliding to the floor. Without being deterred, he walked into his current sleeping quarters.

Although surprised by the sudden lack of shyness, the older man couldn't help but grin, being suddenly reminded of a toddler Sam running around this same living room in nothing but his birthday suit.

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Although he went to sleep fast, it took the grizzled hunter only about two hours before he was awake again. For a few more hours he tried to get back to sleeping then he decided to get up and take a shower. By the time he was done and dressed it was almost seven and he went downstairs to make coffee and work on breakfast.

He was just finished frying the bacon, when the front door slammed shut. A second later Dean appeared in the doorway. His nose slightly up and sniffing the aroma, his eyes closed and a dreamy expression appeared on his face.

"Ah, breakfast, guess I came just right."

"Yeah, just right to wake your brother," Bobby said, taking in the longsuffering look that appeared on his face, he added, "be nice though, kid didn't sleep well and neither did I."

"Alright, I promise, I'll kiss him good morning really nicely." The older Winchester stated with sarcasm coloring his voice.

Making his way to the library, he found the door wasn't closed all the way. Pushing it open, he walked into the room and looked around. Sam's clothes were strewn all over the floor, the rollaway bed empty except of the pillow and a crumpled up blanket. Turning around, he expected to find his kid brother sitting at either the table or in one of the arm chairs, but realized he wasn't there either.

"Guess he must be in the bathroom."

Walking up to the door, he stopped for a moment, listening for any noises. Hearing nothing, he knocked, "Sam, you in there?"

He waited for a response, but when none was forthcoming, he said, "I'm not gonna play games here, I'm gonna come in. If you don't want me to, say something now." Again there was only silence, "Alright, you asked for it!"

Dean turned the knob and opened the door. This time he really was surprised to find the room empty. Turning around, anger laced his voice as he yelled, "Okay Bobby, where is he? Did he and you set this up to get back at me?"

The older man came out of the kitchen, confusion written all over his face, "What the hell you're talking about?"

"I'm talking about you and Sam setting me up, because you're mad at me."

"Boy, I still don't know what you're talking about, I told ya earlier to wake up your brother." Bobby growled.

"That's what I was trying to do, but he isn't in his room and he isn't in the bathroom either."

Bobby stared at him for a moment then tore up the stairs and into the room the two Winchesters used to share until almost two weeks ago. Finding it empty also, he went through each of the other rooms, although he knew they were filled with so much junk, it would be almost impossible for the kid to find refuge in one of them. After he searched the last room, he turned around and found himself face to face with Dean.

"Okay, you wanna tell me what's going on here?" The older brother asked

"In a moment…" The salvage yard owner left him standing in the middle of the hallway, hurrying down again and into the library.

By the time his friend caught up with him, he could hear the swearing coming from his mouth.

"Dammit…"

"I think I have a right to find out what's going on. Where is Sam?" Dean suddenly started to have a strange feeling rise up within him, leaving him with a sense of dread.

"I wish I knew. He is gone", Bobby turned to face the firstborn Winchester, "but I don't think that's the biggest problem."

"He probably is just taking a walk." Dean tried to calm the clearly upset older man, not quite sure if he was really doing it for Bobby or if it was more meant to quiet his own fears.

"Not likely, he wasn't wearing any clothes!"

TBC

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_So that's it for today. Wonder what happened to Sammy. He is out there somewhere without clothes. Doesn't sound like much fun. Let me know what you think. All your reviews keep me going. This is so much fun. Hugs, Vonnie_


	8. Chapter 8

_Wow, I think I stepped in it with the last chapter. I got everyone's attention. Well I hope this chapter will bring some answers as to why Sam went out without clothes. Hope you will enjoy it and thanks to all of you. _

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Sam Winchester was dreaming. He was dreaming he was lying in bed sleeping, when a voice whispering his name startled him awake. Looking around, he found only darkness and silence surrounding him and he was just about to go back to sleep, when he heard the whisper again.

"Help me Sammy, please…help me!"

He instantly recognized his brother's voice in the insistent murmur. Without further thought the young man leapt out of bed and followed Dean's voice, as it continued to desperately beckon for his help. There was a door in his way, but whoever had locked it, forgot that they were inside the house and the multiple locks provided no major hindrance to the young hunter. Hearing his brother call out again, he hurried to get outside, carefully closing the door behind him, so no one would keep him from leaving.

Once outside, a slight chill overcame him, as he felt the wind against the thin sweats and T-shirt he wore at night, making him want to turn around and change into something warmer. Yet the same wind also brought Dean's distressed cry for aid with it and so once more his priority became clear beyond the shadow of a doubt. Breaking into a jog, he followed the sound, hoping to find the source, his older brother before anything happened to him.

He must have been running for several miles, the dirt road underneath his feet hard and cold and the occasional rocks bruising and splitting the skin on his soles mercilessly. He ignored the pain, fear driving him forwards, as Dean's pleas became louder and more frantic. What was a little pain, if his brother needed him? Dean's life depended on him.

A sudden bright light blinded Sam and he stumbled backwards, almost losing his balance. Holding his right arm up to shield his eyes from the brilliance, he attempted to make out its origin, when a familiar figure stepped in front of it.

"Dean, you alright?"

There was a long pause, before the older man answered, "No, I'm not, how could I be? Whatever I do, wherever I go, you are always there, following me like a puppy. Why don't you just go away?"

Feeling like he got hit by a rock, the younger Winchester stumbled back, still dreadfully trying to figure out what he had done, when his brother continued.

"This is entirely your fault. I lost everything because of you. Mom died trying to save you, dad spent his whole live hunting that yellow-eyed bastard and I had to take care of you. I never got to be a child, never got to have fun, because I always had to babysit you brat. And what did it get me? You took off as soon as you could and went to Stanford, while I was the good son and stayed behind with dad."

He took several steps forward, stopping right in front of Sam. Although a few inches taller, the younger brother suddenly felt incredibly small.

"Why didn't you ever tell me you felt this way?" He questioned, his large blue-green eyes wet with unshed tears.

You should have known without me having to tell you! But you were way too selfish. You dragged a girl into your mess, got her killed and again it was me, who had to come and wipe your snotty nose. And for what? You got Caleb and Pastor Jim killed and now dad is dead too. Everyone around you dies. Who is gonna be next? Bobby? Me?"

Sam put his hands in front of his face, "No, no, no, please, I'm sorry…" He cried out, too terrified by Dean's word to form a clear thought.

"Guess what? Sorry doesn't cut it. Remember, too little, too late…"

The older Winchester stepped even closer now, making the taller man take a step backwards and loose his balance, as his foot found no purchase on the crumbling ground. Falling freely, Dean's words followed him down into the abyss.

"Too little, too late…; too little, too late…; too little…"

His back hit the ground hard and he continued to roll down a steep hill.

"Too little, too late…; too little, too…"

He hit even ground and finally came to a stop on his abdomen, his head facing to the right.

"Too little, too late…; too little, too late…; too…"

Dean's voice taunted him for a while longer until it faded out to nothing, his vision and hearing getting lost in the downwards pull of darkness. In the end it was only merciful nothingness which surrounded him like a soft blanket.

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For just a split second Dean stared at Bobby, his green eyes wide with panic, before he stormed towards the door. Ready to run out, the older man's voice held him back at the last moment.

"Halt!"

Irritated the younger man turned around, "What? My brother is out there somewhere, probably freezing to death and we are wasting precious time here!" He barked.

"Right, Sam is out there and you going off halfcocked won't help him any."

Reluctantly Dean walked back into the room, "Guess you've got a point. So how you wanna handle this?"

Alright, first of all, we have to figure out what's going o with the kid." Bobby suggested, "I mean, think about it, we are talking about Sammy here, the kid, who won't even take his shirt off in front of me.

Dean suddenly paled and swayed, making the older man reach out to steady him, before he would fall. Assisting him over to the couch, he settled him on it, before laying his hand on his shoulder.

"You alright?" He asked, honest concern lacing his voice.

"No", Dean shook his head, "no, I'm not alright." He looked up, his voice shaking as he continued, "Bobby, I know Sam has been sleeping down here, but did you notice anything odd in his behavior, especially at night?"

The older hunter thought for a moment, then nodded, "Well, now that you mention it, he did take a shower in the middle of the night and didn't feel the need to get dressed afterwards, wore only a towel in front of me. He was also acting a little weird, when we talked, but I didn't think too much about it, thought he was just too tired to really care and still wasn't ready to talk about what bothered him."

"Oh God…, I should have known! How could I have been so blind?" Dean carded his hands through his short spiked hair, before looking up at his friend, who was staring at him without understanding, waiting for an explanation. At last he continued, "After Sammy found out about the family\y business and dad let him go on a few hunts, some strange things happened in the house we lived in at the time. Dad finally figured out that Sammy was sleepwalking. I think that's what's happening now."

Bobby stared at him in an attempt to comprehend what he just heard. It didn't seem possible to him that all this time Sam had been asleep and he didn't notice it. But how would he ever even thought of anything like this, when no one ever bothered to tell him.

"Idjits, didn't anyone ever think it might be necessary to tell me about this? How many times did you boys stay with me? Sometimes it was only Sam, who stayed here, when your daddy took you with him. Did you ever think about what might have happened?"

He stalked into the kitchen, then turned around and came back, "Never mind that now. So he had to be asleep when he walked away…" He mused.

"Oh God, Bobby, where would he have gone?" Dean's voice was trembling with despair.

"Think boy, think, this is your brother." The grizzled hunter scolded. "He wanted to be with you, needed you even and you were in town…"

The older Winchester looked eyes with his friend, then jumped to his feet, "Let's go, he has to be somewhere between here and town."

This time he didn't stop until he sat in the Malibu, gunning the engine, leaving Bobby almost in the dirt, as the older man tore the passenger side open and jumped in at the last second before the old car tore down the drive of the salvage yard.

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Dean very slowly guided the vehicle down the dirt road, while both of them watched the ditches like hawks watched for their prey. Suddenly he brought the car to an abrupt stop, making an unprepared Bobby gasp as his head almost connected with the windshield.

Turning towards the younger man, he asked, "Did you see anything?"

The other hunter looked at him, his eyes filled with tears, visible having trouble speaking, "This is all my fault! Sammy is out there somewhere, hurting, because I acted like a jerk!"

"You don't know that Dean, he might be halfway to town by now, or maybe he woke up and is hiding in the bushes, too embarrassed to come out." The more experienced man tried to encourage his friend.

"No, I would have passed him on my way back, if he would be alright." Without saying anything further, he started the engine back up and drove on.

For a couple miles it was quiet in the car, neither man wanting to give voice to his fears. As they rolled closer to the area, where the right side of the road dropped off sharply, the younger hunter slowed the vehicle until it at last came to a complete stop at the side of the road. Getting out, he starte4d to walk the side of the gorge, his eyes firmly hefted on the bottom, never even noticing Bobby, who was following him closely.

Without warning he came to a stop, "Sammy…!"

The young man would have jumped down the fifteen feet to where his brother was lying, if it wouldn't have been for the other hunter holding him back.

"Don't Dean, you won't help Sam this way and I can't take care of both of you."

His voice was determined enough that the younger man instinctively stopped and gazed at him, "I got to get down there." He pleaded, his green eyes filled with fear for his baby brother.

"It's less steep over there." Bobby advised him, pointing at a spot only twenty yards ahead, "You go; I'll get back to the car and get a blanket and the first aid kit."

Dean took running without wasting another second, making it down to his brother in record time. Falling to his knees beside him, he didn't miss the large discoloration on Sam's back. He shrugged out of his jacket and gently laid it over the injured man.

"Oh God Sammy, what have I done?"

His hands ghosted over the kid's body, unable to touch out of fear to doing more harm. Finally they came to rest on the messy mob of chocolate colored hair. Gently his calloused hand stroked the strands out of Sam's face, taking in the dark eyelashes lying against skin, which seemed entirely without color, before his fingertips moved down to the side of his neck, feeling for a sign of life.

Dean held his breath for several seconds, while he concentrated on the nerve endings in his fingers, willing them to give him an answer to his desperate question. It seemed like they were giving him an answer alright, but it was certainly not the one he'd been looking for. There was nothing, not even a flutter beneath them.

Dread started to penetrate the older Winchester, making his blood rush through his vessels like a hot and cold river. He suddenly felt faint and his fingers slipped of his brother's skin, self-preservation leaving his mind void of any thought, as it refused to acknowledge the reality of what the nerves in his finger tips were trying to transmit to it.

He was still sitting with his head down and unmoving, when Bobby approached with the needed supplies. Taking in Dean's posture, he came to a halt, as it left him with no doubt of the tragedy, which was unfolding in front of him. At last he found the strength to spread out the blanket and gently cover the younger Winchester with it, gasping in surprise, as the older brother's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, effectively preventing him from covering Sam's head.

"Don't!" Was the only thing that came from the distressed younger man's lips, before he fell quiet again, his eyes never leaving his brother.

For several minutes they held a silent vigil, the old hardened hunter standing at one side with silent tears flowing down his weathered cheeks. Kneeling on the other, the big brother, who suddenly realized that he had allowed his father's words to take away the one person, who was more important than said father ever had been.

Broken as both of them were, it was a small whimper, a sound of distress, almost to quiet for anyone to hear, which repaired their fractured world, which just seconds earlier seemed broken beyond mending. Almost instantly they broke into action, Dean moving his hand back onto Sam's neck, now understanding that it had been his fear, who led him to put his fingers in the wrong area. Now that he positioned them right, he could feel a slow, slightly hesitant, but definitely palpable heartbeat.

In the meantime Bobby lifted the blanket and jacket and looked at the damage done to the youngest man's back. Carefully sliding his hand over the area, he elicited another, this time louder whimper. Always determined to spare their youngest and having difficulty seeing him suffer, neither man would have ever believed a sound of pain from Sam could delight their hearts as much as it did in these last few moments. Yet here they were, just happy he was alive and unwavering in their resolve to keep him this way, no words needed.

TBC

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_So what you do you think? Was it alright? Guess Sammy isn't out of the woods yet, but at least he is alive. Please let me know what you think again. Hugs, Vonnie_


	9. Chapter 9

_Thanks to all of you for your support. Here is the next chapter. Hope you like it._

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Now that the two older men knew Sam was alive, they started to feverish work on keeping him that way. After Bobby assessed the injuries to his back, he looked up at his younger partner.

"I can't feel any fractures along his spine, everything seems stable. Still, we have to be careful, can't always tell by feel only. There are definitely some deep tissue and muscle injuries. He must have fallen on his back first and then rolled further down. Let's be very careful when we roll him over."

"Maybe we should just leave him this way and call for help." Dean's voice trembled, still not quite over the scare from earlier.

"Not a good idea," his friend commented, "he is already hypothermic. Even if you call for help, we will have to get him warmed up in the meantime. It will be at least half an hour, maybe longer before anyone can get out here."

Seeing the truth in the older man's statement, the other hunter first pulled off his button down and then his T-shirt. Doubling the Tee, he rolled it up and put it around his brother's neck as a makeshift neck brace then moved his long arms above head. He pulled the blanket up again, this time covering Sam's head and tucked it slightly underneath the injured young man without moving him too much. Retrieving his jacket from the ground, he smoothed it out as much as possible, before spreading it over him as an additional protection.

At last he sat up and gave Bobby an expectant glance, "Ready?"

"As ready as possible."

"Okay, let's do this on three…"

Both positioned themselves on one side of Sam. Dean immobilized his brother's neck and upper back, while Bobby made sure his lower back and legs were in line.

"One…, two…," Exchanging a fast glance with the older man, the older Winchester continued, "three…"

In one smooth motion they rolled Sam over onto his back, eliciting first a moan, then a scream from their youngest, before his hazel eyes shot open, expressing the pain and distress even clearer than his voice did.

Immediately Dean's hands went to cup his brother's face, soothingly rubbing his fingers across them, "It's alright Sammy, I know it hurts. I'm here now, I gonna take care of you."

For a second the blue-green orbs just stared up at him, before the pain written in them turned to utter panic.

"No…, no…, please don't…, please, no more…, go away…" Sam trembled, his eyes filled with tears, as he weakly fought against the hands holding him. Pain was edged on his face and his lower lip started to bleed, as he bit down on it, while trying to hold back a cry of hurt.

"It's alright Sammy, its Dean you don't have to be scared anymore." The older brother attempted again to calm him, assuming Sam wasn't with it enough to recognize him.

"No…, please go, I don't…, too little, too la…" His voice trailed off, as the agitation and pain turned out to be too much and he lost consciousness once again.

Still holding his brother's head, Dean crumbled right in front of Bobby's eyes. His head dropped, his shoulders slouched and his usually strong presence dissipated until nothing but a pale shadow was left. Even his brilliant green eyes seemed washed out and faded, distorted with more anguish than the older man ever seen in them before.

"I lost him…!"

At this point the junk yard man almost lost it, everything inside him yearning to get away from there and hole up with a bottle of single malt. Only his deep fatherly love, a love he never asked for, yet couldn't deny he felt, kept him from leaving. It was on him now to keep those two boys alive until they could figure things out.

"Pull yourself together; we don't have time for this nonsense."

His voice was gruff and demanded immediate attention and although for a moment it looked like Dean wasn't going to yield to his command, he did finally look up and almost voicelessly asked, "What do you want me to do?"

"First of all, let's get the kid wrapped up into this blanket." He reached around and started to pull the blanket around Sam, stopping when he got a first look at his feet and right lower leg, "Shit…"

The soles of both feet were torn up and dirt and gravel imbedded in them. Yet it was the leg, which shocked him the most. No x-ray was needed to see the fractures in halfway between ankle and knee. The bones were displaced and although not compounded, the leg was severely swollen and discolored. What concerned the experienced hunter most though, was the paleness of Sam's foot. Checking the pulse points, he found his suspicion correct.

"We have to reset the leg before we do anything else, or he might loose it. There is no circulation below the breaks." Again taking the initiative, he continued, "Okay, hold the leg right below the knee, while I pull and try to align the bones."

Leaning his body weight onto his brother to hold the injured man down in case he would move, the older Winchester followed the order, watching with apprehension, as Bobby started to forcefully pull and twist the leg. There was a scream from the victim of this necessary torture and his upper body bolted upright, leading to another cry of pain and continued loud gasps, as he tried to regain control over the agony he was suffering. It was only thanks to Dean's fast reaction, that his body didn't crash back to the ground, causing him even more torment. The older brother moved instinctively as soon as he felt Sam bolt up and at the last moment was able to support his sibling, lying him down very gently.

It was clear that although conscious, the youngest wasn't aware of anything else than the torture his body caused him and his breaths continued to come out in pants as he attempted to pull air into his starved lungs. Dean carefully tucked the blanket around him again and took the offered coat from Bobby's hands, spreading it over his brother. Both men hoped the additional warmth would help to settle the injured man.

For several minutes they watched, Bobby gently stroking his hands through Sam's dark mop, the older brother sitting back slightly, fighting the urge to push his friend away and taking over the task of trying to sooth his kid brother, but knowing he possible would cause him even more distress. Finally the wide open orbs started to slide closed at the same time as the desperate pants settled into a more even breathing pattern. At last the young hunter relaxed and only his shivering reminded them of his hypothermic body temperature.

"Bobby…?" Dean looked at the older man, his eyes expressing the question he was asking without words.

After taking a quick look at the realigned leg, the other hunter nodded, "It worked, now let's find something to help keep it that way."

He started to move, but the older Winchester held him back, "You stay, I look!"

It didn't take long, before Dean came back with several wooden sticks, all of them at least as thick as his thumb and fairly straight, "Easy pickings around here, at least something's going right."

He handed them to the older man, while he grabbed several bandages out of the kit. Bobby had used the time to carefully wrap the injured limb with ace bandages and together they secured the wood to the leg in an attempt to prevent the bones from moving again. In the end the older man checked the pulses in Sam's foot again, looking up with a satisfied smile.

"Not perfect, but strong enough to give him the circulation he needs. The color is getting better too."

He continued his ministration by using the peroxide bottle in the kit to rinse off the worst dirt from Sam's feet, then with Dean's help covered them with gauze, which he secured with more bandages.

Seeing the once again lost stare in the firstborn Winchester's eyes, he said, "Alright, why don't you get the other blankets from the car and call 911, I know there is no reception down here, but you should be alright by the car."

As Dean ran off, he called after him, "Oh, and move the car to right were we are, so they know where they need to stop."

SN SN SN SN SN

As soon as the petite woman in the light blue scrubs came through the door of the emergency department, Dean was on her like a hungry lion on fresh meat. For a second the older hunter almost felt sorry for her, but the emotion was quickly replaced by his own need to hear about Sam's condition.

"How is my brother?"

The older Winchester completely invaded the doctor's personal pace, but that didn't seem to intimidate the middle aged professional at all. Giving him a glare, she retorted, "How did your brother get in this condition?"

"That can wait; first tell me how he's doing?"

"Before I give you any information, I want to know what happened, or I can call the police on you and have you arrested, if you'd like that better?" She declared without so much as even flinching.

Dean was just about to storm past her, when Bobby put his hand on shoulder and held him back.

"Look, Dr…" He glanced at her top for a name tag, reading it, he continued, "Finch, I understand this is an unusual situation, but honestly, there was no foul play involved. Sam has been has been under a lot of stress since his father died and he started to sleep walk again. That's the reason, why he was out there au natural and got hurt. Now if you please would tell us how he is doing, we would really be extremely grateful." He added his best smile, hoping it would make a difference.

The hardened features softened and brown eyes looked at them with poorly hidden warmth; making the woman in front of them appear much more attractive then she had seemed before.

"Sorry, but having a patient come in here without clothes and with bruises all over him sets off an immediate warning flag. I still need to hear more, before you have me completely convinced that this was nothing more than a sleepwalking incidence." She actually smiled slightly then went on, "You obviously knew about the fractures in his lower leg and you did a great job resetting and immobilizing them. He still will need to have surgery for them though. There is severe bruising in his back but at least no fractured vertebrae. Because of the bruising he might have some difficulty with the feeling in his legs for a while, but this should go away within a few weeks. What concerns me more is his right kidney. It got pretty banged up and they are prepping him for surgery right now. I can't tell you exactly how bad the injury is until after we opened him up."

Dean, who had been standing motionless ever since the female doctor started her explanations, now shook the older hunter's hand off his shoulder and walked away, not stopping until he was outside. Bobby wanted to follow his young friend, instinctively worried about his state of mind, but stopped when Dr. Finch reached out to him.

"I need permission so we can perform the surgery and for that I need you to understand that there is a possibility we might have to remove the kidney, if it is too damaged to repair."

The hunter stared at her, the responsibility lying heavy on his shoulders, "What happens, if you have to remove it?"

"Usually it doesn't really make any difference to a healthy person, as one kidney is more than enough to handle the waste products the body needs to get rid off. Still, we always try to preserve the injured organ, as even an only partially functioning second kidney can make a huge difference, if there is a problem with the other one at some point in the future." She moved a little closer to the older man, reassuringly squeezing his hand as she did, "Believe me, I won't remove the organ unless there is absolutely no chance to repair it."

"Alright, what do I need to sign?" Although Bobby would rather let Dean sign the permission papers, he didn't want to delay the surgery any longer than necessary.

"I'll send one of the nurses out with the papers, in the meantime I will get ready to assist Dr. Carmichael he is the urologist, who will perform Sam's procedure. I have to apologize that you didn't get to meet him, but he was out of town and is coming back especially for Sam. He asked me to talk to you, as he wanted to start as soon as he got here and scrubbed in. He will get together with you afterwards though."

SN SN SN SN SN

It took Bobby ten more minutes before he finally was free to go off and look for Dean. To his relief he found the younger man sitting on the ground right outside the emergency entrance. His legs pulled up against his body, his elbows were braced on his knees and both hands holding on to his cell phone, while his head was leaning against his forearms.

The older man let out a grunt, as he sat down beside him and for a while the two were sitting without either of them saying a word.

"They took Sam up to surgery," Bobby finally said, "He is gonna be just fine. The doc said, even if the have to remove the kidney, he can live without it and have no problems at all."

Only a slight nod let the old salvage man know he had been heard. Again it was silent, only the noises from the bordering parking lot and the exchange of two paramedics getting their rig ready for the next run could be heard.

"You know," Dean started suddenly without looking up, holding his cell up a little higher, "I almost called dad to tell him what happened. Funny, isn't it?" He laughed, the tears in his eyes betraying the supposed humor in his statement.

"It's understandable, it hasn't been that long yet and it's what you always did."

There was a noise from the younger man's throat that sounded like a mixture between a laugh and a sob, "Yeah, I did, problem is, the bastard would never come."

Feeling like protesting, Bobby stayed quiet instead, acknowledging that nothing he would say could change the truth. John Winchester loved his sons more than life, yet his actions didn't always match his feelings. In the end the old hunter decided to ignore Dean's last sentence.

"Dr. Finch was good about explaining to me, how Sam could live with only one kidney but that they would do everything possible to save it anyway. I really believe the kid is going to be fine."

"I hope you're right Bobby," the younger man said, for the first time actually looking at the older man, "but that won't change the fact that I lost my little brother. I messed up royally this time, had my head up my butt for so long, I didn't see what was happening to Sammy. Guess I deserve it, wouldn't wanna be my brother right now either, if I were him."

"Yeah, I have to agree, your head was far up there, but don't believe for a minute that Sam doesn't love you anymore. The kid adores you." Bobby hoped he was getting through to him, but wasn't really surprised by his response.

"Nah, not this time, I let him down one too many times. He is done with me. After all this, can't say I blame the kid. I'll stick around until I know he is out of danger, than I go back to your place, don't want to be around when he wakes up and upset him again." His voice was resigned and held a deep sadness but also something else, which let the older hunter know there would be no way to change Dean's mind.

Getting up, he made his way inside, grumbling, "Stubborn Winchesters" under his breath. At least for right now he could be sure his friend wouldn't be far behind him, too eager to make sure his baby brother would really be alright.

TBC

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_So is it up to the usual standard? What you you think? Is Sam going to be alright? And what about Dean? Can't wait to hear from you guys. Hugs, Vonnie_


	10. Chapter 10

_Thanks again for all your support. Here is the next chapter, it is devoted to all my readers_.

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Dean Winchester lent over the side rail of the hospital bed, his fingers gliding through the dark mop that was his brother's hair. His heart ached at the thought of leaving Sammy and only the assurance that Bobby would stay and watch over his baby brother made it possible for him to even think about it.

All his life he had been Sam's protector, the one, who made sure nothing would happen to the kid, but this time he had messed up royally and now he would no longer be able to claim this role. It wasn't that he didn't want to, because his need to be there for the younger man was greater than ever, yet in his selfish need to distance himself from Sam to find closure after their father's death and to deal with the legacy he'd been left with, he had forgotten his most important function. Now his presence was bringing harm and distress to his brother, rather than security and comfort. No, this time he was going to do the right thing and put Sam's need over his own.

His hand slid down the pale cheek, careful not to displace the nasal cannula, which allowed pure oxygen to flow into Sam's respiratory system with every time he took a breath. Dr. Carmichael, the urologist, who performed the surgery on his brother, had just left the room a few minutes ago. He'd explained that they had not been able to repair all the damage to the kidney, as the organ had been more severely injured than they had thought. At this point they could only hope the rest of the damage would heal and the organ start functioning again. There was still a more than fifty percent chance that this wouldn't happen and they would have to remove it. He had also explained that after looking at the scan prior to surgery, he had noticed some changes in the ureter, the tube connecting each kidney to the bladder, on the other side. On exploration he'd found the tube torn and although he fixed it, he had to place a stent to keep it open until it would be completely healed.

Now that the urologist left, Dr. Finch, who until now stood by quietly, started to give her own report.

"We didn't plan on fixing Sam's leg right away, but Dr Zimmer, the orthopedic surgeon on call was in house for another emergency and he offered to take care of it so Sam wouldn't have to go under again. He put rods in both the tibia and fibula, the two bones in the lower leg. This will stabilize and give them a better change to heal. He told me Sam got lucky; the fractures are fairly smooth and closer to the knee, which means they usually will heal faster."

Dean swallowed hard then asked without ever taking his eyes of his brother, "I heard all the stuff the other doc explained and now I listened to what you had to say, but neither of you ever told me, if Sam is going to be alright?"

"You want me to be honest?" The female physician's voice made the older Winchester lift his head for the first time and lock eyes with her. Reading the answer in them, she continued, "I don't know. His leg is going to be fine, his kidney though…I told your uncle earlier your brother can live with only one, but with the severity of the injuries, there is a greater chance for infection and further complications. Yet we couldn't risk taking it, not with the injury to the ureter of the other and the damage it did to that kidney."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a second here!" Dean left his spot by Sam's side and stepped closer to the doctor, "What damage? No one talked about any damage to the other kidney."

Without being intimidated, Dr. Finch continued, "I guess he didn't want to worry you, before we actually knew if there will be a real problem. You see, when the ureter was severed, the urine produced in that kidney leaked into the surrounding tissue, causing swelling and inflammation. We put your brother on some potent antibiotics, but there is still a possibility this could cause an abscess, which could involve the organ itself."

In an attempt to digest the news and come to terms with the gravity of it, Dean turned and walked over to the window, leaving Bobby to ask the question he was afraid to.

"So now what?"

"Now we wait and see if the will antibiotics work and if the other kidney recovers. The only thing I can tell you at the moment is the injured kidney isn't working at all, but the other one is producing a fair amount of urine, which is promising." She answered honestly.

"What if the worst happens?"

"Let's just pray it won't. Dr. Carmichael ordered renal function to be monitored at least twice daily, more often if there is a change to the worse." The physician looked over to her patient, "Let's just take it one day at a time and not make up problems before they happen.

The older hunter moved silently toward the bed and wrapped his hand around the silent young man's. For a moment his eyes rested sadly on Sam, before they moved on to his older brother. His mind reeled over the question why nothing involving the Winchester could ever go the easy way. Didn't those boys have enough to carry? Why did this have to happen? Yet during his time on this earth and especially his time as a hunter, experience taught the salvage yard owner not to ask these kinds of questions, as it had a tendency to bring you more grief.

Pushing it away into the farthest corner of his mind, he said, "Thanks, doc for being so honest. I would appreciate it, if you would continue this way."

Dr. Finch smiled, yet her eyes remained serious, "I will and I'll make a note in Sam's chart that you want to be notified of any test and lab results immediately."

SN SN SN SN SN

It was late evening before Sam fought his way out of the depths of unconsciousness without sliding right back into it. It was also the first time, when he actually became aware of his environment. Feeling the rough hand holding his, made his thoughts instantly move to his brother. Struggling to lift his leaden lids, his mind filled with the accusing mantra, which had followed him down into the abyss before he was able to open his eyes even to a slit. Despondent, he wanted nothing more then to let himself slide back into nothingness, yet was held back by a voice that accepted no defiance.

"It's about time Sam. Open your eyes and let me see you're still in there. You almost gave me a heart attack."

Bobby let out a breath of relief, when Sam's blue-greens finally opened. The last three times he had hoped the young man was going to wake, the kid had slipped away before he had come this far.

Right now the only thing he was worried about was the fact that Dean had left shortly after Dr. Finch had told them about Sam's prognosis. Even though he tried to hold him back by first telling him how much his kid brother would need him now and later by calling him a stubborn idjit, the firstborn Winchester had not been deterred. He continued to insist that after all he had done his present would do more damage then good to his brother.

Drawing in another breath, he continued in a more gently voice, "Good to see you awake, kid, you really gave me quite a scare there."

", …'pened?" Sam mouthed, as his voice was still hoarse from the intubation during the surgery.

The older man reached for the cup of ice water on the night stand and guided the straw between Sam's lips, "Here, take a drink that should help a little."

After taking a few sips, Sam let his eyes roam around the room. It took only a short second before his breathing picked up and the dreaded question came out of his mouth, "Dean, where, where is Dean?"

Not quite ready to fess up the older man's eyes move away from his injured young friend, knowing the boy would be able to read the lie in them, "I sent him to get something to eat."

For the moment Sam seemed satisfied with the answer, yet Bobby could see the confusion written on his face and the wheels in his still foggy brain turning. If there was any doubt left, it was taken from him by the youngest Winchesters next question.

"What happened to me? I don't remember."

"You fell." The older man cleared his voice in an attempt to stall for time, unsure how Sam would react.

"I fell?" Sam's eyes cleared, as they grew larger, reminding the hunter of the little boy he used to be, "Down the stairs again?"

"No, ahem, you remember the sharp decline between my place and town?"

If possible the young man's eyes got even wider, "I fell there? But how…, how did I get there?"

The moment of truth had come and there was no more time for stalling, "You've been sleepwalking…"

The silence that followed would have been complete, if it wasn't for the noises coming from the TV set. The hunter watched the expression on Sam's face but was unable to come to a conclusion of what was going on in his mind. So he was even more surprised, when the younger hunter finally spoke.

"Oh…"

Bobby looked at him in utter bewilderment, "Oh…? I just told you, you've been sleepwalking and all you have to say is 'oh'?"

It seemed like Sam didn't even hear his outburst though, his eyes remained firmly fixed on something that wasn't there and as he continued, it was clear he wasn't talking to anyone else than himself.

"I guess that explains things. It wasn't Dean; it was my own mind accusing me." For a moment his featured smoothed out and complete relief was written on his expressive face. To Bobby's regret it lasted only for an instant, before it was wiped away by deepest despair. "I've been causing him nothing but trouble. I failed him, almost got him killed. Guess dad was right not to trust me."

No, Sammy", the older hunter hurried to say, "You didn't fail him."

Hazel orbs, clouded by tears gazed up at him and this time he failed to avert his eyes in time, "He isn't here, is he?"

"No, but he was here to make sure you were alright and he will be back as soon as he pulls himself together." Bobby tried to assure him.

"It's alright Bobby, you don't have to lie, I understand and he was right to leave." Feeling the need to be alone, he attempted to turn over, the pain the move caused ripping through his back and whole body and taking his breath away.

Scrambling for the call button, Bobby pushed it down as soon as his finger touched the device then his hands went to Sam's shoulders. Gently pressing the young man into the pillow, he soothed, "Breathe through it, Sammy, slowly in and out, just breathe. It's gonna be alright, help is on the way."

He looked up at the nurse, who stuck her head in the door, just to disappear again. Concentrating once again on his friend, he saw that his words didn't make any difference and the kid was continuing the struggle for breath, his lips already showing a bluish tinge.

"Could you hurry up, he's having trouble breathing." Bobby felt panic take over, just when Dr. Finch appeared by his side.

"Change him to a mask, at ten liters and I want some blood gases stat." She ordered then connected a syringe to Sam's IV catheter. She pushed the plunger down slowly, keeping a close eye on her patient while she did. Finally his panting breaths started to settle and his struggling seized at the same time as his eyes fluttered shut. Yet even in sleep the mask of pain and desolation continued to mare the handsome face.

Bobby relaxed slightly, but didn't move his hands away; instead he gently kept rubbing circles on Sam's chest.

"What in the world was this?" He asked at last, his eyes never leaving the younger man.

"Did he move?" The doctor responded to his question with one of her own.

"He tried to turn, but…"

"I was afraid of that." She answered, "See, the surgical wounds would cause some discomfort, but what is really more pain are the injuries to his back muscles and ligaments. I'm gonna write an order for Steroids IV to help with the swelling and inflammation and I'll increase the base and breakthrough rate on his Dilaudid PCA. Hopefully that will be enough for now."

The hunter gave her a puzzled look, "Alright, stop right there. I do understand quite a bit, so I know a PCA is a patient controlled analgesic, but what is that base and breakthrough rate?"

"Sorry," Dr. Finch apologized, "sometimes I forget, please always stop me if I do that. Base rate is the amount of pain medication that flows in per our, in Sam's case it was 0.5mg and I will double that. Breakthrough is the rate he can get with each push of the button, which was 0.25mg every 30 min but I will increase it to every 15 min."

"That doesn't sound like a whole lot. I know the kid has been on much higher doses of morphine in the past."

"That might be, but Dilaudid or hydromorphone generic, is much more potent and I really don't want to overwhelm his system. But I can give an order to increase it, if it's not enough, so they don't have to call me every time." She offered with a smile, seeing the honest concern in the face of her patient's uncle.

She wished more families would be like him, yet it was more common for them to let their loved ones suffer, not because they wanted them to, but out of a false fear they might get addicted to the medication. Most of them wouldn't even listen to her explanations and although she couldn't really blame them, it made it difficult for not just the patient and families, but also for the medical staff involved, who had to stand by without being able to bring relief.

Watching the way Bobby Singer attended to his nephew, she could tell how much the young meant to him. She had observed the same in his brother, which made her wonder, why the other man wasn't here now. There was definitely something going on here, something that seemed to cause a lot of distress. Sighing she left the room, it was not her place to ask unless it caused harm to her patient and at this point she had no reason to suspect it did.

TBC

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_So, once again, what you do think. I know there wasn't a lot of Dean in there, but I promise there will be more in the next chapter. Hope you still liked it. Please let me know. Hugs, Vonnie_


	11. Chapter 11

_Sorry, this is a day late and I didn't get everything in there I wanted to. Life has been crazy this week. Anyway, there will be a complication to Sam's condition in the next chapter for which you have to thank or complain to the mighty Skag Trendy. She put my nose right into it and I have to say, I liked it a lot. It was supposed to start in this chapter, but as I said, life didn't give me time. So you have something to look forward to. _

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Bobby Singer was getting really concerned. He spent the last two days in the hospital with Sam, only leaving to take a shower at the motel room he rented for that very reason. It might as well not have a bed, because he never touched it. His sleeping hours were spent in the recliner beside his young friend.

John's youngest didn't really make any progress, but he also didn't seem to get worse and for right now both his physicians seemed to be happy with just that. It didn't take him long though to discover that his legs didn't feel right. Although he could move them, he didn't have much control, as they felt like they were asleep. Going from total numbness to a mild tingling and sometimes an almost stabbing pain, only added to his already severe discomfort.

Dr. Finch remained very patient in explaining that it was the injuries to his muscles and ligaments, which caused this, yet it didn't prevent the young man from sliding further into depression. When awake, with wasn't often, the pain meds kept him groggy pretty much most of the time, the kid was withdrawn, but at least made an effort to interact with the older hunter. Bobby could tell though, it was more out of some kind of misguided guilt than actual interest in anything he had to say.

Dean called at least twice a day to find out how Sam was doing, yet refused to talk to him. The experienced hunter could tell by the way his voice sounded, how much he missed his kid brother, yet he insisted that it would distress Sam only further, where he to suddenly show up at his side or even talk to him. Nothing the older man could say could convince the stubborn Winchester otherwise.

On the other hand he didn't have any more luck with Sam either, who was convinced that he was the reason for all of Dean's problems and his big brother needed to stay away from him, if he ever wanted to have a life. At this point the salvage yard owner wasn't sure, which one of the two Winchesters was the more bullheaded one, but it really didn't matter, either of them was driving him nuts and together, or rather apart, they were more effective in driving him to an early grave then any supernatural entity ever could.

Early this afternoon Sam started to run a slightly elevated temperature, nothing too bad, only around 100.1 F and Dr. Finch assured Bobby it was not unusual for this to happen. Still, it seemed almost like a precursor of things to come. The kid was even quieter today and although he denied having more pain, the older man knew him well enough to tell he was lying. Again the doc explained this was perfectly normal, yet the addition of "in most cases" did nothing to take away the hunter's worry. After all both Winchesters seemed to favor being the exception to any rule, the "few cases" and the "abnormal".

What finally made his concern shoot out over the top was the latest call from Dean. After giving the younger man an update on Sam's condition, including the low grade fever he was running and the increase in his pain, there had been a long silence. Misreading the pause as worry, he hurried to give him the same assurances he'd received from the doc. To his surprise the oldest Winchester told him, he would call back in the morning, if Sam continued to hold his own at that time, he was planning to take off. He'd found a hunt and was going to meet up with Joshua down in Kentucky. After that he hung up before Bobby could even open his mouth and wouldn't answer his phone when the older man called him back.

With this on his mind, the hunter was now sitting in his usually spot and watched Sam push his supper away. He knew he needed to keep Dean here, yet he wasn't sure how to accomplish this almost impossible task. Maybe he could put Rumfeld's choke collar on Dean, chain him to the back of his truck to drag him to the hospital. For a second he actually smiled at the though, it would serve the pigheaded Winchester right.

Making up his mind, he stood and stepped closer to the bed. After taking in the injured young man's haggard looks and the pastiness of his skin, he almost change his mind, yet knowing that Sam wouldn't get better without his brother on his side, he pushed all doubts aside.

"Hey kiddo, I really should go home and get a change of clothes. You think you'll be alright by yourself tonight?"

He had an inkling he already knew the answer he would get, although it still almost broke his heart, when Sam replied, " I told you before you don't have to waste your time on me."

"Son, you've never been a waste of time for me." He locked eyes with the younger man for only a split second, as Sam averted his face almost instantly, yet even this short glimpse showed him the depths of the boy's despair. Unable to find words to address what he saw in them, he for once feigned ignorance, "I'll be back in the morning, but I'll leave a note at the nurses station to call me anytime if you need me.. In the meantime, don't go anywhere." He added, cringing as the words left his mouth and he realized what he just said.

"Couldn't if I wanted." was all the response he got before Sam let his heavy lids slide close and turned his head away.

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Dean Winchester was trying very hard to keep his mind on the "right" track. He knew leaving town and giving his brother room was the right thing to do. He was glad when Joshua called about this hunt in Kentucky. The hunter actually called to recruit Bobby, but was more than happy, when Dean offered his services instead.

The older Winchester would have preferred to stay around until he was completely sure Sam was going to be fine, yet he knew his older friend needed his help as soon as possible. After a year of hunting with Sam again, even the thought of going it without him felt strange, but he pushed the thought aside, knowing there was no other choice. Maybe later, much later, when the kid was all better and they've been away from each other for a while, Sam would be able to forgive him. After what he did to him, Dean wasn't sure it would ever be possible, yet to go off without any hope of ever seeing his brother again, was more than the older brother could cope with. Man, how did things get messed up so bad? For the first time Dean understood, why Sam didn't get along with their father.

Hearing the sound of an engine in the drive way, he looked out of the window, as Bobby exited the car.

"Damn, I should have known." He cursed.

Taking his jacket and the car keys, he was just about to leave, when the door opened, almost hitting him. The way Bobby Singer stood in the doorway reminded the firstborn Winchester so much of his father, it almost felt like deja vue. His legs were spread apart and he stood stretched to his full heights, which although slightly shorter then Dean was still impressive given the added bulk of the man. His face was schooled into a stern expression and his voice sounded like thunder, leaving no doubt he meant what he said.

"You'll better hold it right here boy. If you think I'll let you run away again, you're dead wrong. Try it and I'll show you that I'm not too old to beat the shit out of you."

Watching the younger man turn and walk over to the couch with his head down, reminded the grizzled hunter of a kicked dog running into his corner with his tail between his legs. Unable to hide a grin, he averted his face, when Dean sat down and looked at him.

Clearing his throat, he said, "We really need to talk about this."

Encouraged by the change in Bobby's voice the younger man spoke up, "There is nothing to talk about."

"That's bull and you know it!" The junk yard owner made his way into the kitchen and returned a moment later with two cans of beer. Handing one to his friend, he sat down and opened the other. Taking a large gulp of the foaming brew, he studied the other's face for a moment, before he said, "I have no idea what your dad told you before he died, but I know it was something that is ripping you apart."

Before Dean could protest, Bobby continued, "I don't expect you to tell me what it was. I knew your daddy for a long time and I know he put responsibilities on your shoulders he never should have. I don't think his head came out of his butt long enough for that to change before he died. Whatever it was though, I want you to know, it's not worth splitting up with your brother over."

The pause that ensued after this was long and hung heavy in the room. Burying his head in his hands, Dean sat motionless and it wasn't until several minutes later, when he finally found his voice.

"It wasn't like that though. I let my brother down. He was trying to help me and I pushed him away. Not just that, I walked away from him and when he needed me most, I accused him of getting hurt on purpose to get my attention. Because of my ignorance I missed what was really going on with him." He glanced up, his eyes moist with unshed tears, "He got hurt because I wasn't there for him and now he is scared of me and hates me."

The salvage man wanted to let out one of his 'you idjit', but knew now wasn't the time for it, instead he said, "Sam loves you, he isn't capable of hating you. The only reason he was scared was because he was confused, sounded to me like he had some kind of dream, when he was sleepwalking."

"He told you?"

"Not really, he was more talking to himself after I told him about the sleepwalking. Said something about it making sense and that it wasn't you but his mind accusing him." Bobby responded.

Dean thought for a moment then shook his head, "Still, he'll never be able to forgive me for what I've done to him."

The older man's turned sad, "Son, you don't know your brother very well, or you would know the kid doesn't blame you for anything. He thinks all of this is his fault and it's you who hates him."

"Why…? Why in the world would he think that?"

"Dean, the kid adores you and he woke up in the hospital without you at his side. How could he think anything else?"

The expression on Dean's face changed suddenly as the truth started to dawn on him, "Oh God, I really messed up Bobby." He jumped up, "Let's go, I need to tell him he is wrong, I don't hate him, it isn't his fault."

The other also abandoned his seat, but only to hold his friend back, "We do that first thing in the morning. When was the last thing you got any sleep?" From the dark smudges under his eyes, he could tell it had been at least a few days.

"I don't need to sleep right now." Dean protested.

"Well, maybe you don't, but maybe I do and Sam definitely needs his rest. They got him on the good stuff and I'm amazed he is able to keep his eyes open for any amount of time." Bobby's voice once again left no opening for dispute.

Reluctantly the younger hunter agreed, but made his voice known before he disappeared upstairs, "I'll leave around six, if you're not ready to go, I'll go without you."

"Wouldn't expect anything else!" Bobby now openly smiled, knowing at least he'd gotten through to one of those pigheaded Winchesters.

TBC

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_So once again, what do you think? Let me know, if its still okay. Hugs, Vonnie_


	12. Chapter 12

_Alright, so here comes the complication. I'm not giving it a name yet, but Skags, you know. Per request of Enid18 I added some extras in it. I'm here to please. Thanks for all your continuous support. I found out this week that this story and another one "Cold as Ice" are nominated for the UnGen Awards over on Supernaturalville. Made me cry. I've never been nominated for anything. _

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After Bobby was gone, Sam was let to his thoughts, thoughts that were dark and filled with self loathing. Why was it that even his best intentions turned wrong? After Jess was killed he put his whole focus on finding dad. Sure, it wasn't only because I feared for their father, but also and maybe even mostly, because he hoped John could help him find Jessica's killer. Yet he honestly had been happy, when they found him, or he found them.

Finally the family had been back together, because as much as he didn't get along with dad; it had broken his heart, when the older man had told him if he would leave he couldn't come back. And for the first time there actually had been hope that they could defeat what had killed their mom and destroyed their family. But like always, things wouldn't go their way.

Sam could still see the demon using his father's body to hurt Dean, could see his father telling, no ordering him to shoot him. He still felt the colt in his hand, felt the doubt in his mind. He had known the yellow eyed bastard might get away, but how could he shoot his own father. Torn between duty and love, he chose love. Because of his choice Dean almost died and their father had to give his life in exchange for it.

Because of him his father died, because of him Dean was broken; because of him…Everything was because of him. But no more, either way, this would end right here. Killing himself wasn't an option. He wouldn't do this to Dean; his brother would hold himself responsible. Maybe he would get lucky though and die right here. Na, he was a Winchester and Winchesters never got that lucky. That left him only with one option, to disappear. Dean had taught him a thing or two about that.

The youngest Winchester wished he could leave right now, but knew he wouldn't get anywhere. He couldn't hardly move, forget about walking. Just another example of his luck,; just once in his life he was going to do the right thing and he couldn't. Damn, he couldn't even turn over and bury his head into the pillow. Needing to escape the desolation that ruled over him, he pushed the button of his PCA. He knew one push, coupled with the steady hourly flow wouldn't put him totally out, but he'd discovered, there was a error in the lockout and if he held on to the button without letting go, he could get the four doses of breakthrough dose he was allowed in one hour within five minutes. Just enough to not only take the pain, but also put him out of his misery for several hours instead of just a little while.

He smiled, knowing that if the malfunction would be discovered, the machine would be exchanged, but until now no one had noticed and they had blamed poor tolerance for narcotics and weakness for his long periods of sleep.

Feeling the effects of the drug, the despair and darkness left his mind and a feeling of peace and weightlessness overcame him. Letting go, he floated away on the clouds of narcotic induced unconsciousness, where nothing could touch him.

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Jo Vaughn had been a nurse for a lifetime; at least it felt this way to her. It was her third twelve hour shift in a row, the last one before having four days off. As she looked at the computer screen in front of her, she pulled up her eye brows. The lab results she was looking at looked anything but promising for the person they belonged to. Even though, she wasn't really surprised, as she already suspected what they confirmed.

Sighing, she looked at her watch, it was almost midnight. She hated to wake up Dr. Finch on her night off, yet she knew the female doctor would never forgive her, if she wouldn't.

After all, she'd left instructions in case this would happen. Picking up the phone, she dialed the number and waited for a response.

"Doc, this is Jo, sorry to disturb you this late, but…"She didn't have to say anymore.

"_I wasn't sleeping yet. How bad is it?" _The voice on the other end asked.

"Pretty bad!" She replied.

"_I'll be right in."_ The connection was severed and the nurse put the phone down.

She should have known Doc would be still awake. She was had probably known before she even ordered the tests what the results would be. Locking the computer, she stood up and walked down the hall to room 316. Quietly opening the door, she stepped into dimly lit room. The young man in the bed didn't move and his breathing pattern showed her that he was in a deep, drug induced sleep. Turning the indirect light over the bed up just enough to do a thorough assessment, she started by checking the monitor and IV pumps, before she went on to assess her patient.

Her concern rose, as she pulled the thermometer out of his ear, giving her a reading of 101.8 F. She was grateful that Dr. Finch had taken a special interest in this patient, as she didn't care for the doctor, who was working tonight. Dr. Lehman was arrogant and didn't seem to care for people, who didn't fit into a certain mold and she had noticed last night that Sam Winchester certainly didn't fit into of his molds.

The nurse sat down, deciding to sit for a while with her patient. The night had been quiet and she knew his uncle had left earlier in the evening. From what she heard from her colleagues, it was the first time since the young man had been brought in. She smiled, when she thought of the rough looking older man with the sparkle in his eyes. He was clearly more than just an uncle, as it was not often that someone other than a parent spent this much time at a hospital bed.

Picking the sleeping man's hand up, she held it both of hers, softly stroking it. It didn't escape her experienced eyes that the usage on the PCA was slightly ahead of scheduled. It as also not the first time she noticed it, but up to now she'd kept it to herself. If there was one thing she had learned in her time as a nurse, it was that the hype over dependency on pain meds was completely overdone. Sure, there was a real danger, but usually it was long-term usage and usage after the pain passed. And her patient was certainly in no way close to that time. He experienced real pain, both physical and emotional, as dealing with the paresthesia in his legs and the inability to move without severe discomfort was certainly not a peace of cake. She was going to change the PCA in the morning before going home to make sure he wouldn't get in trouble with any of the other nurses.

She looked up as the door opened and Dr. Finch appeared in the room. "Hi Susan. " She said, having been on a first name bases with the female doctor for the last ten years, only in private though, as they continued to use titles in front of the other staff.

"Hey Jo." The doctor smiled shortly, before turning serious, "I checked the results. You're right; it doesn't look good at all. Not only was the dip stick positive, but the microscopy of the urine confirmed it. His electrolytes are already off; especially his Potassium is quite elevated. Let's get him started on Albuterol Nebulizers and have the lab draw another Potassium level stat."

"Do you want to add a CBC with that? His temperature has risen since earlier." The nurse looked at her expectantly.

"Better do, I don't want to miss anything here."

Taking the phone out of her pocket, Jo dialed the number for the lab. When a voice appeared on the other end, she gave the instructions and hung up. Walking out, she said, "I'm going to get the Albuterol treatments started. Do you want me to order an EKG while I'm at it?"

Dr. Finch nodded, "Good idea, although his values aren't that high yet to suspect any acute changes, it would be good to do one." Following her friend out, she added, "I'll stick around until we got the next lab results."

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Sam Winchester woke up to a gently, but determined padding on his shoulder. Drowsy from the medicated sleep, he blearily blinked several times, before his eyes were able to focus on the young man standing by his bedside.

"Hi, I'm Matt from the lab." The redheaded man said, "Sorry to wake you, but I have to draw some blood and I didn't want you to startle."

The younger Winchester just nodded his consent, still trying to clear his mind. As he felt the tourniquet tighten around his arm, he wondered why someone would draw blood from him in the middle of the night. Oh well, it could be that he slept all night and it was morning already. Those Vampires always would come way early every morning to satisfy their need for blood. He swallowed hard, suddenly getting a weird feeling in his chest.

"All done." The lab tech stated, wrapping a gauze bandage around the site of the blood draw. Nodding one more time, he left at the same time as a nurse appeared in the room.

"Hi Sam," Jo smiled as she walked up to his bed, "I brought you a new treatment. We have to get you started on some nebulizer treatments. Your potassium is a little high and we gonna use a beta2-agonist, in this case Albuterol to get that stuff back into your cells. Doc Finch also ordered to start an IV of glucose and insulin, which will help also."

She set the small case she was holding on the night stand. After plugging it into the outlet, she opened it and took the mouthpiece connected to the case by plastic tubing out then handed it to her patient .

Seeing the questioning look on Sam's face, she said, "Just close your lips around it and when I start it, breathe in deeply through your mouth and out through your nose. This will take about ten minutes."

She watched him for a few minutes, making sure he was able to suck the medication deeply into his lungs.

"I'll be right back, I just gonna get the new IV solution ready. By the time I'm back, you should be done with this." She said.

Turning to walk away, she saw out of the corner of her eye, as Sam's hand, which was holding the mouth piece dropped. Spinning back, she observed his eyes rolling back into his head, just as tremors starting in his hands moved up his arm, finally taking over his whole body. Immediately the nurse stepped up, pressing the emergency button on her phone, she spoke into it. I need a card in 316, patient is seizing." Making sure her patient didn't injure himself on the side rails and his airway remained clear, she waited impatiently for the team to arrive.

Just as the door burst open, Sam's body suddenly went stiff then changed to a complete limpness. Reaching out, the registered nurse held her breath as she checked for a pulse.

Reaching for the emergency release for the headrest and pulling the board from its storage place underneath the bed. With a sure hand, she turned the tall body of her patient to its side and pushed the board underneath his chest before letting the side rail down.

Her actions left no doubt about what was happening and one of the other nurses took the ambu bag from the cart and started pushing air into Sam's lungs, as Jo cut his gown open and began compressions. Dr. Finch connected the patches to the young man's chest and started the monitor, looking at the fast, completely irregular markings on it, she ordered, "Charge the defibrillator, someone call the lab, I need the results stat."

Barely waiting for the full charge, she pulled the pedals out of their resting place and pushed them against Sam's chest.

"Clear…" she screamed, depressing the button the moment both nurses stepped away.

Seeing no change in the rhythm, she charged once again, while Jo and the other nurse continued CPR until the charge was complete. Shocking her patient one's again, with the lifted the pedals and looked at the monitor once again, when a voice from the background called out, "Doc, lab said his Potassium is 10."

"Alright, I need 20 cc of Calcium Gluconate 10% IV push over 3 minutes. And someone get the Glucose with Insulin solution ready and going." She ordered, keeping her voice even.

Emergencies like this weren't unusual for her, yet it always seemed to touch her in a different way. This one seemed especially difficult, as the young man in this bed had really pulled a string in her. Waiting and watching carefully until the ordered medication had disappeared into her patient's vein, she once again picked up the pedals.

Taking a deep breath, she repeated the procedure."

"We've got a rhythm." Jo called out.

Relieved the physician put the paddles back and looked at the monitor. Seeing a regular, though slightly fast sinus rhythm, she asked, "What are his stats?"

"BP is 84/40, respirations are 45 and his O2 levels are only 69." The answer came fast and did not at all satisfy her.

Making a quick decision, she ordered, "Alright, let's give him some help and intubate him. Get a vent in here."

Looking at the sizes of endotrachial tubing available, she chose the right size for her patient then started the procedure with the assist of Jo, while one of the other nurses brought the requested apparatus into the room.

Giving instructions for the settings before she was finished with pushing the tube down Sam's trachea, she connected it to the vent as soon as she finished. For a minute she observed the steady rise of her patient's chest and the slow climb of the readings on the oximeter, before she turned to her friend.

"How could this happen? His potassium was only 5.7 when they drew it three hours ago."

"I don't know, but I'm sure gonna find out." Jo answered.

"Let me know, when you do, I better notify his uncle. In the meantime, I want him started on a continuous drip of Lorazepam 0.5 mg per hour, if he gets restless increase to 1 mg. I don't want him to fight the vent." Checking one more time on her patient, she readied herself for the phone call she was just about to make.

TBC

_So what do you think about this? I hope it works. Please let me know. Hugs, Vonnie_


	13. Chapter 13

_So I know this is late and __I apologize for it. I hope you will forgive me, it's been crazy around here and I have been under the weather for a few days. I'm all better now. Hope you are still with me and like this. Thank you for all of your support._

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The sound of the phone ringing startle Bobby Singer out of the light sleep he just had fallen into. He reached for it, already knowing it wasn't gonna be good. Pressing the receiver to his ear, his suspicion was confirmed.

He listened for a moment, before he said, "We'll be there as soon as we can."

Jumping out of bed, he threw his bathrobe on and ran down the hall. Not bothering to knock, he barreled into the boys' room and gently but resolutely shook Dean's shoulders.

"Son, you need to wake up."

It took the older Winchester but a second to sit up. He too had trouble going to sleep and had only just fallen asleep.

"Sammy…?"

"Sorry, but the hospital just called, your brother isn't doing so well." Bobby carefully explained.

Panic rose in the younger man, as his green orbs looked at his friend, "How bad is it?"

"They didn't exactly say, just that he suffered some complications and crashed. They had to put him on a vent." The salvage yard owner explained.

By now Dean made his way out of the bed and took his shirt off. Reaching into the duffel for a new one, he said, "So what're we waiting for? Let's go."

"Give me a minute, I'll meet you downstairs." The older man responded, disappearing into his own room.

Getting dressed, his thoughts went over the past evening. What if he would have stayed with Sam? Would the same thing have happened? Maybe, but at least the kid wouldn't have been alone. Then again, Dean probably would have taken off and nothing else would have mattered then.

Still deep in thought, he made his way down the stairs, finding the other hunter already waiting impatiently. He ran outside, starting the car, as soon as the older man pulled his coat on, giving him hardly enough time to get in and pull the door closed, before he drove out of the drive way. He wasted enough time away from Sam. Now he needed to make sure he was on his side, so the kid would know, he needed to fight whatever it was that made him worse.

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Dr. Finch was sitting in her office, doing some research. Although she was familiar with the problem Sam Winchester was facing, she still felt the need to refresh her memory and find, if there were any new treatments since the last time she had a patient with it. As of right now, she had found nothing new or different, making her feel a little more competent, yet at the time also leaving her a little bit discouraged. Taking a drink from her coffee, she turned when the door opened.

"Sorry, I knocked, but you didn't hear." Jo apologized.

"No problem, come on in."

The nurse slipped into the room, sitting down across from her, "I found out what happened. The lab screwed up. One of the new techs, a girl that is still on probation dropped the tubes with Sam's blood. She already had a few points against her, so she covered it up by making up some numbers, based on the last draws from early this morning."

"She did what?" The doctor couldn't believe her ears, "Didn't she think of the consequences this could have. Sam Winchester almost died, still could, because we weren't aware of his labs earlier."

Jo just sadly shook her head, "Obviously her profession means nothing but a paycheck to her. They are dealing with her now."

"Well, she won't ever work in health care again; I'll make sure of that. She will be lucky if she doesn't get sued by Sam's family, wouldn't blame them."

A knock on the door interrupted her and another nurse stuck her head in. "Dr. Finch, Sam Winchester's family is here."

"Thanks, I'll be right out." Taking another drink from her coffee, she looked at her friend, "I'm so not looking forward to doing this."

"I know, it never gets easier and with some families it's tougher than with others." The nurse agreed.

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Dean was pacing back and forth in front of the nurses station, while Bobby pulled his baseball cap off and pushed his hair back. As soon as the two men had appeared on the unit, they had been stopped by one of the nurses and been told to wait here for Dr. Finch. Although that had been only a minute ago, it still was more than especially the older Winchester brother could take right now. Ridden by guilt before this, the news that his brother's condition had changed to the worse had increased it a thousand times.

He just couldn't believe that he had acted like such a jackass. He needed to get through to Sammy, make him understand that there was no reason to be afraid of him. He needed to let him know that he loved him, that…

Turning for another round, he thought about, that it could be too late already, that maybe his brother…No, he wasn't going to go there.

Mr. Singer, Mr. Winchester," Dr. Finch started to get the attention of the two men.

She could have set of an alarm; the reaction wouldn't have been any less startling, as both of them scrambled up to her, their eyes looking at her expectantly. Searching for the right words, she finally started to explain what happened since Bobby left the hospital. Without wanting to keep it a secret, she left out the part the false lab report played in Sam's current state for now. The little family was going to have to deal with enough right at this moment, without knowing about it. This could wait until later.

Listening with as much patience as he could spare, Dean finally lost it, when the part with Sam coding and being put on a vent came up. Interrupting the physician in the middle of a sentence, he asked, "Is there any reason, why we can't do this while we're in Sam's room?"

Not in the slightest upset about the interruption, she nodded, "Sure, no problem at all. I just want to warn you, your brother is sedated and won't respond to you right now."

Hardly waiting for her to finish, the older Winchester ran off towards his brother's room, with Bobby following on his heal. Going after them at a slower pace, the doctor and nurse exchanged glances. Both of them hoped their patient was going to be alright or there might be more than lives lost than just his.

Entering the room together, the women stopped as they saw the scene unfolding in front of them. The older brother's hands were ghosting over the younger's body, one of them finally coming to rest on his chocolate colored mop, while the other one perched onto the mattress. Leaning over, he whispered something into the other's ear, not meant to be heard by anyone other than Sam. He remained like this for several moments, before his uncle stepped up and laid his hand onto his shoulder. Righting himself and turning towards the older man, Dean's arm almost accidentally moved up and over his eyes.

"Alright, so let's hear it, what's wrong with my brother?" He asked, moving the masked of being untouchable back in place.

Dr. Finch started to explain the medication they were treating Sam with right now, then went on to say, "I think I have to go a little bit more into details on what is causing Sam's problems. Your brother is suffering from a condition called Rhabdomyolysis…"

"Rabowhat…?" Dean was staring at the doctor, like she just had grown a second head.

"I know it's a strange word. Rabdomyolysis, what it means is that the muscle cells are being destroyed because of major damage to them, in Sam's case the injury to his back. There is a pigment in the cells that contains iron, its called myoglobin. When that gets into the bloodstream in large quantities, the kidneys can't deal with it and that can lead to big problems."

"Wait a second," the older Winchester interrupted, "so you are telling me that Sam has one kidney that isn't working at all, one that has problems and now there is something that makes it even worse."

Dr. Finch swallowed and cleared her throat, stalling for time, while she tried to find the right words. Knowing there were none, she finally said, "That and the fact that he also developed an infection. All in all, it doesn't look very good." Taking a deep breath, she continued, "We are hoping the treatment with the insulin/glucose IV's and the Albuterol Nebulizers will help with the Potassium. I started him on a different Antibiotic and I also contacted a nephrologist for a consult. I expect he will start your brother on dialysis to take some of the load off and protect his working kidney."

Dean exchanged a glance with Bobby that told the older hunter everything about how the younger man felt right now. Having listened quietly until now, he took over with some questions of his own.

"So when is that guy gonna see my nephew?"

"He is on his way now. I didn't want to wait until morning. We have to be aggressive with the treatment right now, if Sam is going to have a chance." She explained with a serious face, before she let a little smile light it up, "This is very serious, I would lie, if I would tell you otherwise, but Sam has a good chance. He is young and he has you on his side. Just let him know he is not alone."

Bobby looked at her with a grateful nod, "We'll be with him every step of the way you can count on that, doc."

"Not sure, if Sammy wants me here?" Dean mumbled, to quiet for the doctor or the nurse, who was still standing in the doorway too hear. The words didn't escape his surrogate father's keen hearing though. Not wanting to say anything in front of strangers, he pretended not to have heard it, knowing he would bring it up as soon as the opportunity arose.

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All Dean wanted after finally being alone with his brother, well almost alone, because Bobby was still there, was shake Sam hard enough to wake the younger man up then take him out of here and start all over. Knowing that even the thought of doing so was ludicrous, as it would do nothing but make his condition worse, he settled for sitting down and taken hold of his hand. As he sat, holding on to Sam's hand and watching his chest rise and fall with the whoosh of the ventilator, his mind wandered back to another hospital bed, another young man lying in it with a machine breathing for him. Only then it had been him lying in the bed and Sam was the one holding his hand.

"Whoa…!" Dean let go of his brother and jumped up like struck by lightening.

Instantly Bobby was at his side, "What happened? You're alright?" He asked with worry in his voice.

"Yeah….yeah, at least I think though." The older Winchester stated, pinching his nose with his fingers, "This was just too weird."

"What was?" The older man was still not satisfied with the answer he got.

"I just…, no, it's just not possible." He shook his head.

"What is not possible?"

Realizing the other hunter wasn't going to let go, he said, "I just had this flashback, it was like I was seeing myself on the ventilator after the accident. But that just can't be!"

There was just a very short, purposeful pause before the salvage man gave him a thoughtful glance, "Do you remember anything that happened after the accident?"

"Bobby…" Dean gave his friend an upset look, "How could I? I was in a coma. All I know is what dad told me."

"So Sam never told you about the reaper?"

"Reaper?" His face clearly expressed that he had no idea what the older man was talking about.

"There was a reaper in the hospital. Sam wasn't clear on what exactly happened, I have a feeling he wasn't really sure about it himself. But he told me that you had an out of body experience and he was able to communicate with you through an ouija board." Bobby explained.

"So why didn't he tell me about this?" Dean's voice suddenly had a sharp tone to it.

"He never had a chance you idjit. Your daddy died and later he weren't exactly the listening kind." He scolded.

Feeling like he had been slapped, the younger man's head dropped. Bobby was right; he never gave his brother a chance to explain anything. As a matter of fact, he had gone out of his way to avoid Sam. Not just that, he treated him like it had been his fault there father died and very clearly told him, he didn't need to try to make things up to him or there father, because it was too late.

Sam's words from when he woke up after they found him came to his mind, yet the thing that was more disturbing than anything, was that they had been the same words he had thrown on his kid brother's head, "Too little, too late." Words, which now haunted both of them in their own way. Instead of staying with him, telling him how sorry he was, he felt Sam hated him and he would be better off without him.

'He screwed up royally once again.' He scolded himself. It wasn't the first time, but every other time he always had gotten the opportunity to make it up to his brother. This time this might not happen.

The thought alone made him sway, his face turning almost as white as Sam's, leading Bobby to steady him.

"Sit, before you fall down boy!" He commanded, helping him back to the chair.

Dean ignored him, reaching for Sam's hand once again, grabbing it even tighter than before, "I'm sorry Sammy, God, I'm so sorry for what I've done." He sobbed, "I'm here now. Please, I don't hate you, I never could. None of this is your fault. Please, fight this, come back. I can't do this without you!"

His voice breaking, he buried his head into the mattress, realizing that the words he thrown at his brother were now throwing back at him, _"Too little, too late!"_

TBC

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_Okay, so what do you think? I tried to not overwhelm with the medical stuff, but it's so though for me. Let me know if it's too much. Hope you all have a Merry Christmas. Hugs, Vonnie_


	14. Chapter 14

_Sorry this one is a little bit shorter, but it seemed a good point to break right were I did. Thanks for all your awesome support. Your are the best readers/reviewers anyone could wish for. Hugs, Vonnie_

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Although Dean Winchester had promised himself not to leave his brother's side again, he found out very fast this was a promise, which wasn't easy to keep. That it was as a matter of fact impossible, he found out as soon as the nephrologist, a guy by the name of Dr. Kantamnemi came into play. Almost immediately after explaining to both men what the plan of action was going to be, the youngest Winchester was swept away to further tests on both of his kidneys. And even though Dean protested, he was in no uncertain terms told the only thing for him to do right now was to sign the consent forms and sit down and wait. The one thing placating the hotheaded young man was the promise his brother would be back within the next two hours.

So there he sat and paced and drank one cup of coffee after the other, until even his hardened digestive system couldn't take it anymore. It was a desperate run for the bathroom and only a last forward jump prevented him from expelling the contents of his stomach all over the floor.

Waiting more or less patiently outside the public restroom, trying to give the older Winchester some privacy and sense of dignity, Bobby was relieved, yet also disturbed, when a haggard looking Dean finally exited the place. Without a word the younger man walked towards him and leaned his head against the grizzled hunter's shoulder, a gestured that left no doubt about his frame of mind. Putting one hand around his neck, the other around his back, Bobby pulled him into his embrace, again surprised that there was no resistance. After a few moments the older Winchester shook the arms holding him off and moved away.

Without looking at his friend, he said, "What if he doesn't make it?"

There was a slight shakiness to the older man's voice, when he first answered, one that he only started to control as he went on, "You can't allow yourself to think that way, Sam is going to be alright, you have to believe that."

"How…" He was interrupted by the Indian doctor appearing in front of him.

"Sam is back in his room, if you give us a few more minutes, you can go back too. He just started his first dialysis treatment."

Dean stared at the much shorter man, whose words seemed to bring comfort and yet he instinctively knew there was more to come. He was proven right, when the specialist pointed towards the sitting area.

"Why don't we sit down, so I can go over all the details with you?" He smiled kindly, yet even this couldn't fool the older brother.

Taking a seat beside Bobby, he looked at the doctor with anticipation, his hands shaking so much; he finally decided to sit on them.

"I wish I could give you some good news, but there isn't any. Sam's injured kidney is still not working and the ultrasound showed a large abscess on the right side of it. I already talked to Dr. Carmichael and he is going to try and drain it in the morning, but there is a chance he won't be able to save the kidney." He paused, trying to judge the way both men took the news. Seeing a glimpse of relief light up in their eyes, he almost wanted to walk away and wait until morning with the worst of his news.

It took him a deep breath and all his resolve to finally continue. It wasn't going to get easier just by waiting a few hours and false hope wasn't going to do anything for his patient or his family.

"Sam's other kidney shut down almost completely. The ultrasound I did showed there is a lot of damage from myoglobin already. We have to wait a few days to see, if it is reversible."

Dean swallowed hard, for a moment unable to get his voice to work. Looking at Bobby for help, he found the older man giving him a nod, before raising the question he couldn't bring himself to ask.

"What if it isn't?"

"Let's take it one day at a time." The doctor suggested, "Right now Sam has a lot of things against him. We have to get the Rhabdomyolysis reversed and deal with the infection. If we get those things controlled, we can deal with the rest." Unable to take the expression in the moss green eyes that seemed to look right into his soul any longer, he excused himself with the reason of checking on his patient, in leaving telling the two men, they could go and see Sam as soon as he was leaving his room.

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There were several reasons Bobby Singer was grateful, when they were finally allowed back in with Sam. One of the main one's was his own need to be with the kid, he saw as one of his sons, the other one, almost as important one was the certainty that those boys needed one another more than the air they were breathing. Just in the few minutes since the doctor left them, he had seen how the older one was withering away, devastated by the unspoken verdict the man had brought.

He let out a deep breath he didn't know he was holding, when he saw the ever so slight straightening in the younger man's posture. He instantly made out the reason for it, as he saw the ventilator had been replaced with a strange looking mask over Sam's face. Stepping closer, he studied the device.

"It's called a BiPAP, it's almost like a vent, as it forces air in, but not as intrusive." It was Nurse Jo, who was giving him the explanation, "The insulin/glucose and nebulizer treatments brought his potassium down a little and his breathing is getting better. Hopefully after he completed the dialysis, we will have enough of the poisons removed from his system for him to wake up and completely breathe on his own."

The salvage yard owner gave her a confused look, "But Dr. Kantamnemi said…" He couldn't bring himself to complete the sentence.

The nurse nodded with understanding, "I know, but the dialysis is going to help him for now and hopefully with the antibiotics and the upcoming surgery to drain the abscess, he will be strong enough to fight his way back. You know, prayer is a powerful thing and I have done it many times at a bedside. It does work."

Before the old hunter had a chance to say anything, Dean replied without looking up, his voice having a bitter tone to it, "Well lady, it might work for you, but we Winchesters found out a long time ago, that the man upstairs, if he even exists, doesn't really like us."

Without being taken aback by the harshness of the comment, the nurse reached across the bed and put her hand on the disillusioned young man's arm. "I understand that sometimes circumstances lead us to loose any belief we have. I still gonna pray for your brother."

She checked the monitor readings one more time, than left without a further word, hoping the two men would find some kind of comfort in the present of the young man that very obviously meant the word to them. And she prayed Sam would find the strength he needed to fight. There was no doubt that it was going to be the fight of his life.

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The dialysis treatment lasted for six hours, during which the two older men sat in a mostly silent vigil at Sam's bedside. Dean continued to hold his brother's slack hand, squeezing it from time to time to relay his ongoing present to the younger man.

Right after seven thirty in the morning, half an hour after shift change, Nurse Jo came to bring them coffee from the nurses lounge and a breakfast consisting of bacon, eggs, toast and fruit, she picked up in the cafeteria.

Seeing the expression on the younger of the two's face telling her she had to be nuts to think he was going to eat, she gently said, "You're not doing your brother any favors by not eating. You have to keep your strength up, so you can continue to be there for him. I promise the food isn't half bad, especially if you add some hot sauce to the eggs. She pulled a small bottle out of the pocket of her scrubs and set it in front of the young hunter, smiling when she saw his eyes light up a little.

She winked at Bobby, "I might have just found out the secret to getting this guy to eat. Just give the bottle to one of the other nurses; it belongs in the nurses' lounge. I'm gonna be off for a while, so I expect Sam here to be at least halfway back on his feet by the time I come back. And remember, I will keep praying."

She stepped closer to the bed for a moment, tenderly moving some of the sweat soaked hair out of her patient's fevered face. Leaving her hand on his head, she stood silently with her head bowed and her eyes closed, before she smiled once more at his family and left the room.

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Morning went on, bringing a concerning spike in Sam's temperature and several visits from Dr. Finch and Dr. Carmichael. Seeing the urgency of the situation, both the surgeon and urologist decided not to delay the planned procedure any longer then necessary. Explaining how the process of draining the abscess was going to happen and what the risks of the surgery was, both assured them that it was the best, maybe only chance for the youngest Winchester to get over the severe infection.

It was almost overwhelming for both the older brother and the surrogate father, when the dialysis machine was finally removed and several nurses and aides took their youngest away once again to be taken to surgery. Going with his brother as far as he was allowed to, Dean only reluctantly surrendered Sam's hand, everything in him screaming to hold on and be with him.

Only a firm hand on his shoulder finally enabled him to let go. Never taking his eyes of his brother until the automatic doors closed behind him, he finally moved them to lock with the ones of the man, who the hand on his shoulder belonged to. Seeing a pain and fear in those eyes almost as deep as his own suddenly strengthened his resolve. He was not going to give up on Sammy, they both were Winchesters and if nothing else this stood for strength and determination and first of all stubbornness. He wouldn't allow his kid brother to surrender to this. There was nothing strong enough to beat one of them, not if they stood together.

TBC

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_So what do you think? Too boring, I know there isn't very much happening there, but I promise it will come. Let me know again. Hugs, Vonnie_


	15. Chapter 15

_Thanks again to everyone for your support. I love all of you. Hope you will continue to like it. _

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Bobby Singer sat up in his chair and stretched. He had been sitting in it for way too long, not wanting to leave a distraught Dean alone with his brother, after the younger returned from surgery. Looking over, he saw the younger man had finally fallen asleep, his hand still holding on to Sam's, his head on the mattress beside the others legs. Taking the opportunity, the salvage yard owner stood up, stretched again and walked out of the room to get some coffee.

As he walked down the hallway towards the nurses' lounge, Nurse Jo made sure they could get their much needed caffeine supply there rather than from the vending machine, his thoughts went back to a few hours ago.

Dr. Carmichael had stopped in right after he finished Sam's surgery to let them know how it went. Until then Bobby still had hoped things would turn out alright, yet the expression on the specialists face told him otherwise. The doctor's words confirmed his suspicion. After draining the abscess and inspecting the kidney, he had found the organ was already too damaged by the infection to be saved.

Although both men had been well aware that this was a possibility, it still hit them like a hammer. Why in the world couldn't they, couldn't Sammy ever get a break? In the end it was Dr. Finch, who helped both of them get through this latest hit. She assured them that this would at least give Sam a chance to get over the infection.

Bobby stopped at the coffeemaker and taking two of the Styrofoam cups, poured them full of the black brew. Making his way back to the room, his mind once again wandered off.

It seemed strange, how the female physician seemed to understand how to lift both of them up. Her words about giving Sam's remaining kidney a few more days to recover and how the dialysis treatments were going to keep his system free of waste materials, helping him with the process, really made the difference between complete devastation and hope.

Pushing the door open, he stepped into the room, almost dropping the cups. The older Winchester hadn't moved an inch since he left, neither had he younger, yet there was a confused looking pair of hazel orbs peeking out from underneath hooded lids. Hurrying over, he sat the coffee on the bedside table, before he moved up to the bed.

It was obvious Sam had noticed him, as his eyes opened a little farther and moved towards the older man. Feeling the heaviness of the BiPAP mask on his face, he attempted to lift his hand up, instantly feeling it weighted down by another rough hand and eliciting a startled response from the owner of said hand, as Dean jumped up with a loud, "Gah…" followed by a questioning "Sammy?"

The younger man turned his head slightly, while moving the mask off his face, "D..n…"

Smiling his big brother bent over him and tried to adjust the mask again, getting a shake of the head and a, "Nn...o…" from him.

"Alright, I leave it off for a moment." He soothed, brushing some of the stray hair out of the younger's face.

"Nn..o, g..ot g.g..o, n..o g.d." the words came out slurred and hardly understandable, but Dean had no problems getting their meaning.

Pulling his hand back, as if bit by a rattler, he looked at Bobby, who in turn put his hand on Sam's cheek, "It's alright son, Dean isn't mad at you."

"Know that, please B..Bobby….pr…protect him…just hurt him."

Although this time the words came out much clearer, they made even less sense to either man than the ones before. Attempting to find out more, the older man realized their youngest had fallen back asleep. He pressed the call button, while Dean fastened the mask again, making sure his brother would be able to breath without difficulty.

Turning to once again face his friend, the oldest Winchester finally said, "What did he mean? Who are you supposed to protect?"

The grizzled hunter squinted and took his ball cap off. Pushing his hand through his thinning hair; he readjusted the cap back onto his head, before he more thinking out loud than actually talking to Dean, said, "Kid also said something about hurting someone. He must think he is hurting you, so he wants me to protect you."

Dean stared at him like he just had sprouted a second head, "You can't be serious? Why in the world would he think that?"

"Not sure, but that's the only thing that makes sense. He doesn't have a lot of self worth right now, actually probably next to none. Think about what happened to him just during the last year and then tell me you still don't understand."

Interrupted by one of the nurses, who was answering the call light, the younger man let his head hang and walk out of the room. Telling the young woman about Sam waking up, Bobby hurried after the firstborn Winchester.

Dean was already standing by the elevator, when he finally caught up with him. Grabbing hold of his arm, he prevented him from entering it.

"Dammit boy, you can't run away again."

For a moment there was confusion on the other's face, before he said, "That's not what I'm doing, not this time. I just need to clear my head, think about how to handle this. Just stay with him, please, I'll be back soon, I promise."

Reading the honest intentions in the younger hunter's eyes, Bobby just nodded, before letting go of his arm and slowly walking back to Sam's room. "Darn kids, no peace for an old man." He grumbled, deciding it would be another long day and night.

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Dean returned two hours later, even more determined to make things right than before. He still wasn't sure how to accomplish his goal, but decided to try patience and gentle persuasion. Eventually Sam would have to realize that he was wrong, that he wasn't hurting him or anyone else.

Finding Bobby once again holding vigil at their youngest bedside, he handed the older man one of the burgers he picked up at the diner down from the hospital. Sitting down, he grabbed his own food and took a hearty bite out of the greasy sandwich.

"He didn't wake up again since you left." Bobby reported, knowing exactly this was the information his friend wanted to know, "Dr. Finch just left, she is optimistic about him coming around again soon and she turned the meds down. Took him of this awful looking mask and put him on a nasal cannula for oxygen. Also decreased the rate on the IV Solution. She said something about fluid overload, because his kidney isn't working and it would make the dialysis sessions longer."

"How is his fever?" Dean could tell by the flush on his brother's face that the temperature was back up.

"Last reading thirty minutes ago was 102 F, but doc said not to worry about it, it's too soon for it to go away yet."

"Yeah, sure!" The older Winchester wasn't completely convinced, but left it with this right now. Instead he went on, "I thought about this for a while. With Sammy thinking he might somehow hurt me, it might be better, if I stay back when he wakes up again. You know, not let him know I'm here, at least not until he is fully awake and clear enough to understand what's going on."

Bobby knew how difficult those words had been on the younger man and if he would have had any doubt, the pained expression on his face spoke louder than his words. Still, he had to agree with him. As long as Sam was only partially with it, there would be no way to convince him otherwise, causing him only more distress.

"It's going to be alright, Dean," He finally said, "The kid loves you, hell, he adores you, otherwise he wouldn't try to send you away. He is very confused right now and his emotions are on a roller coaster ride. Giving him some time and room is the right thing. But stay close, he needs to know you are here and …"

At that point Dean interrupted him, almost upset his friend would think, he might even consider leaving, "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here in this room, just out of his line of sight until he is ready to talk to me."

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As it turned out, Sam slept through the night and woke up as the nurse started his next dialysis treatment. Still pretty drowsy, the young man took in the mumbling around him with closed eyes. His head was swirling with all the impressions and he tried to make out individual voices and words, but with little success. His mind shifted to inside, as he searched for the events, which brought him here. One thing he was certain of was that this was a hospital.

The haziness cleared very slowly and as it did, bits and pieces of his memory returned. Bobby told him he had been sleepwalking and fell. Dean….his brother avoided him, couldn't stand being around him, because of what he'd done. All his fault, his mom, Jess, his father…he should have stopped him. Dean needed dad, didn't need him. It was him, who caused Dean's pain. He always hurt him, shot him in Dr. Ellicott's asylum, almost caused him to die, when the Azazel possessed their dad. No wonder, Dean couldn't stand him.

Recognizing Bobby's voice now, he lifted his heavy lids, finding the older man bent over him, "Bobby…" He croaked out, his throat sore from dryness and disuse.

Instantly he found a spoon with ice chips pressed against his lips. Gratefully opening his mouth and letting them slid in, he allowed the icy moisture to sooth the soreness. After taking in two more spoons full of ice, he tried again.

"Bobby, what's going on?" Although still sore, his voice cooperated this time.

"You had some complications from you fall and been out for a couple of days." The grizzled hunter wasn't sure how much to explain at this point and decided to start with as little as possible, letting Sam guide him as the went.

His gaze wandering by the other hunter, Sam noted the strange machine sitting beside the bed, noted the clear line filled what could only be blood running from him to the machine and another one back to him. Confused he stared at it for a moment, his mind still too jumbled to grab a clear enough thought to ask the appropriate question. In the end he only asked, "What's this?"

Bobby cleared his throat and for some reason glanced at the other side of the room, before he answered, "You're getting dialysis treatments right now. One of the complications was with your kidneys." Seeing the distraught look in the kid's face, he added, "But don't worry, it's only temporary."

Hating himself for the lie, he knew he would do it again, as there was no way the younger Winchester was in any shape to deal with the truth at this moment.

"Okay." For now Sam was satisfied with the answer. There was a feeling deep within that there was more to this, but he was too tired right now to care. A yawn escaped him and his eyes already started to droop again, "Don't know, why I'm so tired?"

"It's alright son, you just rest, I'll be right here when you wake up."

Somehow the words sounded familiar, like they'd been said by someone else before, but already almost asleep, he couldn't find the energy to think about it. Darkness beckoned and the draw was stronger than his resistance, overcoming even the last bit of it and swallowing him like a large fish would swallow a small one.

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It appeared, the latest dialysis had done wonders for the youngest Winchester, as he woke up several time and even stayed so for quite a while. Bobby kept their conversation light and was glad Sam didn't ask any further questions about his condition or his brother. Although, if he was honest with himself, it worried him, because it was not at all like the young man not to ask questions. The more time he spent with him that afternoon, the more worried he got, as the kid was withdrawn and sometimes answered only after the second or third try from Bobby's side.

As afternoon turned into evening and the last rays of the sunlight spread their light over a once more sleeping Sam, painting his pale, almost grayish skin with a golden tinge, Dean moved closer to his younger brother. He spent most of the afternoon in the lounge, trying to concentrate on a book he found laying around. Yet if someone would have asked him for the title or content, he couldn't have answered either of those questions. Being close to Sammy now, he took in a deep breath. The kid looked so frail, like a slight wind could blow him apart.

Brushing some stay strands of hair out of his face, Dean noted that Sam's skin felt slightly cooler. At least it seemed like his fever was coming down, a thought that inspired some hope in him. He just couldn't loose the kid. Not Sammy, not his little brother, the one he had raised, whom he would protect with his own life and who was his life. Bringing his right hand up to his face, he closed his eyes and pushed his index finger and thumb into his lids, standing like this for a moment, lost in his pain.

Returning from the depths of sleep, his tired mind fighting its way toward the surface, he felt a familiar presence close by. Even though his mind was still messed up, he recognized who it was without the slightest doubt. His efforts increased and were finally successful as his lids released their hold and pulled back, letting him look right into Dean's face. Watching the older man move his hand away from his face, a sad smile moved over his face, disappearing before it was caught by his brother. All Dean got to see were large blue-green eyes looking up at him out of a face filled with pain and sadness.

"Sammy…" Startled by his brother's unexpected awakening, the firstborn Winchester stepped back, his mind swirling with fear Sam would reject him once again.

"Dean, I…" The sick hunter started, but found himself interrupted, when Dean found his voice again.

"No Sammy, you have to listen to me! Look, I screwed up, not just that, I hurt you with my behavior. I was hurting but in my selfishness, I never thought about you might be hurting too. I needed someone to lash out at and you conveniently were there." He paused, as tears started to blur his vision and he had difficulty holding back a sob. Only when he was at least somewhat in control again, did he continue, "Can you forgive me?"

The silence ensuing hung heavy in the room and the older hunter could see the emotions working in his kid brother's expressive face. What came out, when Sam finally started to speak, shocked Dean, and left even Bobby, who was still sitting in his usual chair by the bed, questioning what was happening.

"It's not your fault Dean; I understand how much it hurt you to loose dad. There is nothing to forgive." The younger man started, "It made one thing clear to me though; I don't wanna do this anymore. For the last year I lived an illusion. I actually thought we could be brothers again and I would like hunting with you." He stopped, breathing heavily, before being able to continue, "I was wrong. I hate this life, I hate hunting and although I don't hate you, we have grown apart too much to ever be close again."

Once again he stopped to get his breath, this time closing his eyes and turning away.

The words would have hit Dean like a truck going 70 miles per hour, if he wouldn't have seen the barely contained tears in Sam's eyes. The younger man had never been good at lying to his big brother, as the older Winchester could read him like a book. Still, he couldn't help wondering; why the kid would say these things to him, if he didn't really mean them. Something was seriously wrong and he would find out what it was.

Seeing that Sam was once again looking at him, he said "You can't be serious about this!"

"Please Dean, just leave; I have to go my own way from now on." Looking five years old again, Sam gave him a pleading look.

"Do you really think I'll believe all this shit and just leave?"

Once again the younger man started to breathe heavily, this time almost hyperventilating, "You……to leave!" He pushed out in between breaths.

It was the distress his little brother was in, which made the older man finally agree. Sam didn't need this argument right now.

"Alright, I'm leaving, but just for now. I'm not giving up on you this easy." He said, before giving Bobby a look, which relayed 'Take care of my baby brother' without leaving any room for misunderstanding. The experienced hunter just nodded, sending a quiet prayer for patience and help to heaven. Pigheaded Winchesters.

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The ICU room was dark with exception of the dim night light shining from over the bed. A snoring came from the chair beside the bed, which was once again Bobby Singers place of rest for the night. The older man fell asleep only an hour ago, almost completely exhausted from the events of the last few days.

The young Winchester in the bed was not resting as peacefully, as his head started to move around on the pillow for the last few minutes. Becoming more and more agitated, he suddenly sat up and moved his legs over the side of the bed. His feet touching the floor, he stood up and walked several steps, drawing the IV pole, which stood at the other side of the bed, with him and making it fall against the side table and pushing off a plate still sitting there from Bobby's supper.

The subsequence crash woke the older man with a start and he jumped up. Disbelievingly he stared at the young man, who very clearly had also been startled by the noise and whose eyes looked at him wildly and confused for a moment, before he started to collapse. Watching the fall, like it was happening in slow motion, Bobby rushed forward, a scream on his lips.

"Saaammm….!"

TBC

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_I know that some of you might wonder now how Sam could get up with his legs not working right and him being in such bad shape. Well, its mind over matter and sleepwalking can make you do things you wouldn't do otherwise. The rest is my interpretation of the depths of distress Sam is in. __I'm really not quite sure about this chapter, so please let me know what you thing. Don't be shy. Hugs, Vonnie_


	16. Chapter 16

_So here is the next update, just a little earlier than usual. Hope you will enjoy it. Thanks for all the support!_

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Dean... He had to make sure Dean was going to be alright. He knew his brother didn't believe him, when he told him he didn't want this life anymore that he didn't think they could be as close as they used to be. He read it in his eyes, heard it in his voice, when the older man said he was leaving, but just for now. How was he supposed to convince someone, who almost knew him better than he knew himself, of something that was a complete lie, especially if it usually would be the furthest thing from his mind?

But he had to do it, had to somehow accomplish the impossible. He couldn't allow Dean to stay with him; it would only break his brother. But if the older man thought he hated him and didn't want him around anymore, maybe, just maybe he would be able to deal with loosing the last member of his family, because that was exactly what was going to happen.

No one realized he knew. They thought he was sleeping, which he was, at least until their voices drifted down into the peaceful warmth of his slumber and words like kidney failure and little chance for survival tore him back into the harsh reality that was his life. He had no idea, who they were, just that the voices were female and sounded young. Too tired to open his eyes, he tried to listen to their conversation, picking up that one of his kidneys had just been removed, while the other wasn't working. There had been talk about how dialysis would only work for so long, before his body would start to shut down and what a mess he was and that the best thing would be, if he would just be able to die fast, instead of having to suffer forever. The last thing he heard, before the owners of the voices left, was what a shame it really was for such a young person to have to die like this and how his family was really the once suffering the most, because they were watching it happen.

All these things were going through his head now, when he was finally alone in the room. He would have to come up with a plan on how to convince his brother that he was serious. Sending a quiet prayer up to heaven, he asked for help in his quest.

As if his plea had been heard, he suddenly saw Dean standing in the doorway, dark smudges circling his eyes and his face drawn from sleepless nights and worry. His expression relayed incredible sadness as he finally started to speak, "Did you really think, I would believe you? Sammy, I'm not going to leave you."

He took in a deep breath; it was now or never, "Well, I don't want you here, why don't you get that? We have nothing in common anymore!"

Dean shook his head, his green eyes looking at the younger man in disbelief, "You have never been a good liar, kiddo."

"I know I'm not, but I don't have to be, because it's the truth. I tried to be nice, but you're asking for it. I hate you!" He spat the words out, as if they were poison.

For a moment it was completely silent, before his sibling once more shook his head and looked at him, "I still don't believe you. You would have to kick me out of here to make me and I know you couldn't do that, even if you really wanted to."

"We'll see about it!" He took drew on the anger boiling inside him, anger that was directed against himself for all the grief and destruction he caused. Moving to the side of the bed, he let his feet hang over the side then stood up and walked towards his brother, picturing his own face there instead to keep his rage going and be able to complete his task, his fists clenched in self hate.

The noise of something falling, followed by a loud shattering stopped him in his tracks. His heart started race, his breath coming out in gasps and his whole body shaking, his vision cleared and he found himself in the twilight of his hospital room without Dean. Pain began to shoot through his body, like a hot arrow that had no beginning and no end and the legs he was just standing on a second ago suddenly seemed to have disappeared.

But how could he stand, if he didn't have legs? That's when he heard a voice screaming, it sounded scared and upset and it was screaming his name, "Saaaaaaammmmm…." He knew this voice, yet it wasn't Dean, it belonged to the only other person he trusted that was still alive.

And then without warning the ground seemed to disappear beneath him and he was falling…falling…falling…like there was nothing left to fall onto. Seeing hands reach for him, trying to grab him, hold on to him, he could read the fear written on Bobby's face. He appeared to be just inches away and yet, it might as well have been miles. And then it happened, his decent ended as sudden as it had started, as his back hit the floor first, then his head, bouncing up again and coming down hard one more time, the pain disappearing and yet still there, just so overwhelming now, his brain refused to acknowledge it any longer.

Sprawled out on the floor, unable to move, he made out Bobby's face as it appeared in his line of vision. The older man looked highly distressed and his mouth was moving, yet he couldn't understand the words. He tried to concentrate, kept looking at his friend, yet he just couldn't make out what he was saying. Everything was so muddled and seemed to get more so, the longer kept straining. Gradually, almost lazily, things began to gray out. First it were only the edges of his vision, then it moved inward, uniting into a circle in which Bobby's face was the only thing he saw clearly. Yet it didn't stop there, continued to move inward, making him see less and less of his friend and at last leaving only his lips, before even they disappeared and all that was left was grayness. He knew he should panic and yet he was incapable of it. A peaceful feeling started to spread through him, filling him with warmth and contentment and making him welcome the blackness, which finally replaced the gray.

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The second Sam started to fall, Bobby moved towards his friend with an incredible speed, his arms reaching out and his hands attempting to grab hold of the younger man. Failing by only a minuscule distance, he almost dived after him, still trying to prevent him from hitting the floor, yet again unable to accomplish his goal. Terrified, he watched the kid hit the ground with first his back and then his head, the latter bouncing off the linoleum and hitting it once more, this time staying down.

Coming to rest on his knees right beside the fallen man, he bent over him, "Sam, Sammy, say something!"

Looking into his eyes, he saw large pupils staring at him, yet no response was coming forward.

"Come on son, talk to me!"

Still not getting an answer or seeing any movement from the youngest Winchester, encouraging words started to flow from his lips, words that came out without much thinking, as his heart was thumping so hard, it seemed like it was trying to break through his chest wall. His eyes never left Sam's hazels, as he watched the other's awareness sliding away, his eyes slowly taking on a glassy appearance, his lids beginning to droop. Fluttering several times, they finally stayed closed.

"Dammit kid, don't do this!" The salvage yard owner screamed at his charge, already knowing he wouldn't get a reply.

Getting back to his feet, he hurried over to the bed to push the call light, when the door flew open. Two nurses came running into the room, obviously alerted by the noises coming from it. Stopping only for a split second, one of them hurried to Sam, while the other one picked up the phone.

Pressing a button, she spoke into it, "I need a team in here, stat!"

The next thing Bobby was aware of, was being ushered out of the room and standing in the hallway, watching a distraught looking older brother run toward him.

Stepping in front of him, to prevent him from entering the room, he said in as calm a tone as he could muster, "You can't go in there right now!"

"What happened, I heard the commotion?"

Dean took a step to side and for a second the older hunter thought he was trying to get by him, until the older Winchester turned his face towards him. Locking eyes with him, Bobby could read the desperate questions in it, before he turned away, his shoulders sacking forwards.

"He fell." The older man explained, the shock of the upsetting events still sitting deep in his bones, "I'm sorry, it's my fault. I fell asleep; I should have been watching him."

"Not your fault would have happened to me too."

Although his mind was on his little brother behind the closed door, Dean was still perceptive enough to see the slight trembling of his friend's hands. He wanted to stay right here, wait until someone came out, to him how Sam was and yet, after everything the older man had done for both of them, he owed it to him to take care of him now.

Putting his hand on Bobby's shoulder, he said, "Let's go to the lounge, I'm sure they will look there first, when they are done in there."

Taking a last look back, he led the man, who was becoming more and more like family to him, to the lounge. After making sure Bobby was sitting, he went over to the coffee maker and poured two cups of the steaming brew. Handing one to the other man, he also sat down.

"How could Sam even get up in his condition?"

Bobby took a drink, his hands still slightly shaking and sat the cup down on the table. Taking in a deep breath, he said, "I'm not exactly sure how, but I'm pretty certain he was sleepwalking again."

"Damn it Bobby, "Dean jumped up and started pacing, "I should have seen this coming. All his talk about not wanting this life anymore, not wanting to be brothers, about me leaving, you know that isn't Sammy. I saw his eyes, while he said it; they didn't say the same thing his mouth did. I know the kid, damn, I practically raised him. There wasn't any anger against me; all I could see was sadness and a cry for help."

"I know son, but you couldn't have known, he would start sleepwalking again. How would you? He was so weak; he could hardly lift his head without help." The older man tried to lighten the load; he knew the other was carrying.

"I just wish I knew, what is going on in that freaky head of his? Maybe then I could help him."

The younger man sat down again, taking a drink from his coffee.

"We'll figure it out Dean, we'll figure it out!" Bobby assured him, putting his hand on the other's shoulder.

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Dr. Winslow was at a loss. He knew the treatment history of this patient by heart; after all, it wasn't his first shift since the young man had been admitted. By all rights, there was no way he should have been able to get out of bed. And yet it happened. Not only did he get up and walked several steps, he also managed to pull his PICC line and receive a two inch laceration on the back of his head.

After the team moved the young man back into his bed, the doctor placed a new PICC, before taking care of the head wound by placing six sutures in it. Finishing with a thorough assessment, the young physician decided, he needed a scan of Sam's back and head to make sure there was no new damage.

Waiting in the small physician's office for a call from the radiologist on call, he was more than relieved, when the phone finally rang. Picking up the receiver, he identified himself then listened to the voice on the other end. After hanging up, he stood and walked into the nurses' station.

"Sounds like Mr. Winchester got lucky this time. There was no bleeding, no concussion and no new injuries to his back either." He said to the nurse sitting at the computer, "I'm going back to check him and then talk to his brother and uncle."

Not waiting for an answer, he strolled down the hall and entered Sam's room. Sandy, the nurse responsible for his care was checking the dressing on the young man's head for bleeding. Satisfied that the outside of the it appeared clean, she looked up from her task, when Dr. Winslow stepped beside her.

"Did he wake up yet?" He asked.

"Not yet, which seems strange, it has been more than an hour." She declared.

The doctor scratched his head, "It's probably just because of his general condition, but let's check him, just to make sure."

Assessing his patient's responses and reflexes, his face showed more and more concern. Where just a few minutes ago he had relaxed, knowing he wouldn't have to wake up Dr, Finch after all, he now recognized he wouldn't have a choice. It wasn't that he couldn't handle the situation, or even that the female doctor didn't trust him. It was about her having left instructions to call her anytime there was a problem which couldn't be easily resolved. But first, he would have the even more difficult task of talking to the family.

Typing some instructions into the computer, he turned to the nurse, "I ordered a series of lab tests, please make sure to let me know as soon as the results come back. I'm going to talk to Mr. Winchester's brother and uncle, then call Dr. Finch."

The nurse straightened out her patient's covers, her hand almost incidentally coming to a halt on top of his. Having observed the tests the physician performed, she knew the conclusion, he had come to without asking and it was not good at all.

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Walking back down the hall Dr. Winslow paused for a moment, before stepping inside the lounge. He found the two men sitting down, involved in a quiet conversation, both their heads shooting up, when he opened the door. Swallowing hard at the sight of two pair of anxiety filled eyes meeting his, he moved closer, taking a seat himself.

"How is my brother?" The older Winchester asked before the physician was totally seated.

Deciding to not further delay the inevitable, the doctor started to explain what had happened since Sam's fall.

"So other than the wound on his head there is no new damage?" Dean glanced at Bobby, unsure about the serious expression that remained on the older man's face.

In his excitement over the seemingly good news, he had missed the subdued tone of Dr. Winslow's report. Something that was very unusual for the keen hunter, yet understandable given the circumstances. Yet the junk yard man didn't the big "but", which stood in between every word coming out of the physician's mouth.

"So what have you not been telling us, yet?" He asked, putting is hand on Dean's arm.

"Sam hasn't regained consciousness since the incidence and the last check I did on him didn't look too good." The doc explained.

"What do you mean, it didn't look too good?" The firstborn Winchester stood up, towering over the five foot nine African-American doctor, who also had gotten up from his seat.

"I tested his responses and graded them on the 'Glasgow Scale'. He didn't open his eyes, even to painful stimulation, neither did he respond verbally. There was some delayed pulling away from pain, but this still gives him only six out of fifteen points. Anything under eight means the patient is in a coma."

"Would you cut the crap and talk English!" Dean took a step closer, making the smaller man automatically step back and fall into his seat.

"Uh, I…, your brother, Sam, he slipped into a coma. I'm sorry!" He stuttered, suddenly afraid of the angry young man looking down on him.

Deflated by the news, the older brother turned and slumped down onto his own chair. Still dealing with the blow, his voice was trembling, when he inquired, "But how? You just said the scans showed nothing. How can he be in a coma?"

His compassion kicking into high gear, Dr. Wilson answered in a soft tone, "I wish I could tell you, but I'm at a loss right now. I ordered blood tests on him and I'm going to call Dr. Finch next. All I can tell you right now is that we are doing everything possible to find out what's going on with your brother."

"Thanks, doc we both appreciate what you're doing!" Bobby replied, unsure how he managed to say the words, when he felt like the rug had just pulled out from beneath his feet. Turning to Dean with a feeling of absolute helplessness, he hesitated for more than a moment. How was he supposed to give comfort, when he couldn't find any himself?

TBC

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_So this is it for today. Hope you like it. Just let me know either way. Hugs, Vonnie_


	17. Chapter 17

_Thanks to all of you once again, you are making writing exciting for me. So on with the story._

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"I'm sorry, but after looking at all the test results, I still can't find a reason for Sam's coma. And that also means that there isn't any way to treat him." Dr. Finch was standing in front of the two distraught hunters, her face expressing, just how bad she felt about having to give them this news.

"But there has to be something you can do!" Dean argued his face schooled in a mask of anger in an awfully unsuccessful attempt to cover his real feelings up.

The doctor's voice softened even more, "We certainly will continue his dialysis and his other treatments just as before, but there is nothing else we can do right now."

"I just don't understand how the tests didn't show anything?" Too tired to keep the façade up any longer, the older Winchester's shoulders slumped.

"I double checked his labs and even consulted with several specialists. He is still in acute renal failure, but the daily dialysis treatments keeping this in check. For right now his other systems are working within normal limits, although some of the values are borderline. You know we redid the scans and there weren't any changes from last night either. I don't know were else to look for a cause. This is a riddle for everyone." The female doctor watched the two men in front of her with concern. Neither of them looked like they could take much more.

"So you're telling me, my brother is just going to lay here like this until he dies?"

Bobby's heart almost broke, as he listened to the sorrow in his young friend's voice. He wished he could go back and prevent the fall from happening. What kinda hunter was he, if he couldn't stay awake to keep watch? He screwed up and now not just Sam, but Dean also was paying the price for it. The grizzled hunter shook his head sadly. He knew there was no way of going back, the only thing one could do was trying to fix things. He didn't have any control over what was going to happen to Sam, but he could make sure to be on Dean's side and keep him going until the youngest Winchester got better.

"Dean," Dr. Finch put her hand on his shoulder, "Sam could come out of this as fast as he went in. I'm sure the reason lies within him and if he wants to come out of it bad enough, he will. So don't give up." She gave him a gently smile then turned to the other hunter and patted his arm encouragingly. "I've seen it happen before."

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After the doctor left, Bobby decided it was time to get some breakfast. Not that either of them felt like eating anything, but it made for a great excuse to get away before he broke down. Dean surely didn't need to deal with his problems in addition of his own right now.

The older sibling went back to his spot on Sam's side, without taking notice of his friend leaving. Leaning forward in his chair, he moved the too long chocolate locks out of his brother's face. For a long time he starred at him lost in his own thoughts.

Things had gotten so complicated since their dad died. For the first time he looked at his father's words from a different point of view. John told him he needed to kill Sam, if he couldn't save him. Until now all he really heard, was that he might have to kill his brother, but what his father really wanted him to do, was to do anything in his power to save Sammy.

It wasn't like this made things easy for him, yet it certainly meant that there had to be a way to keep his baby brother safe. That their father wasn't just a bastard, who didn't care if his youngest son lived or died, but rather had realized, if someone could save him, it wasn't him, but his oldest, the one whose care he entrusted a six months old Sammy to. Dean guessed he could live with that.

His mind returning to the present, his hand brushed through his brother's thick mop of hair.

"Damn Sammy, what's going on in this weird head of yours? Are you really just doing this, because for some reason you think you have to protect me? Man, how many times do I have to tell you that it's my job to keep you safe and not the other way around?" Suddenly a grin appeared on his face, "But either way, this isn't really doing anything for me, unless you're trying to protect me from your smartness. And although I never thought I'd ever say this, but I much rather listen to all the things your geeky brain comes up with, then look at you playing sleeping beauty!"

The sudden breakthrough of his cockiness ended as suddenly as it started, as his eyes filled with tears, "Really Sammy, you can't do this to me. You can't just leave me. I can't do this without you." No longer able to hold back, he let himself fall forward, his forehead ending up on top of his brother's legs, as sobs ran through his body. After a while exhaustion took over and he stilled, slipping into a dreamless sleep.

This was how Bobby found him twenty minutes later, when he returned from his breakfast run, without food or coffee, but with his eyes rimmed red and still suspiciously moist.

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Twilight, constant twilight, not absolute darkness, yet not entirely light either. It usually would bring a feeling of peace to him, announcing the end of either a screwed up day or a nightmare riddled, mostly sleepless night. No matter which, he would always welcome it. Not this one though, as it was of an eerie coloring, making the atmosphere around him glow and giving him a feeling of discontentment and anxiety.

He had been walking in it for hours, days, maybe even weeks, who really kept track, if any amount of time was too much. He was tired and his feet hurt, yet he couldn't stop because he knew he had to get out of here, had to find light or darkness, either being better than this. At least he thought that's what he needed to do, because if he was honest, he couldn't quite remember what he was looking for, just that when he would finally find it, he would be able to rest at last.

There was something else he needed to figure out, though. He just knew if he could remember the reason he was here, he would know what he was looking for also. He kept searching his mind, several times coming so close, he could see the blurred outlines of a face in front of him, yet just before he was able to reach it, hold on to it, it would disappear.

Dammit, why couldn't he remember? Why was he here? How was he supposed to get out of here? And most importantly, where was he going?

If he just could sit down and rest, he was sure everything would come to him then. But he couldn't. It wasn't because he didn't want to, but rather that he really didn't have the ability. He tried, again and again. It seemed his legs didn't belong to him, wouldn't listen to him, as they kept walking. He even tried to let himself fall to the ground, but it was almost as if he was controlled by something or someone other than his free will, as none of his muscles obeyed him.

He just wanted to go home, wherever home was. There was something deep within him, which told him, if he just could get there, someone would be waiting for him, someone who would always keep him safe. If only he could get there!

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Nurse Jo sadly shook her head, as she listened to the report her friend gave her. Tonight being her first shift back after her time off, she came in early to talk to Dr. Finch about Sam Winchester. It seemed strange to her that young man and his family continued to haunt her ever since she left. Sure it wasn't unusual for her to take her work with her, especially with some of the real tragic cases, but to think about it every day was strange, even for her. She continued to send prayers to heaven, asking for healing for her patient and comfort for his family, hoping that she wouldn't have to take care of them in the ICU anymore, but rather check on them in one of the step down units during her break. Hearing what actually happened, almost brought tears to her eyes.

"And you say he still hasn't come out of the coma?" She asked

Dr. Finch looked at her with a sad expression, "It's been six days now and there hasn't been any change. We are still doing the dialysis, but his kidney hasn't recovered either, so now we would be looking at a transplant…"

"…but no one is going to even consider putting a comatose patient on the transplant list or performing the surgery." Jo finished the sentence for the female physician, "How is his family dealing with it?"

"I haven't told them yet, didn't even talk about the possibility of a transplant. It would just make things worse. You should look at them. They both look ready to drop, but neither one will take a break. This kid is really special to them and I bet either one wishes he could trade places with him. Wonder if he deserves this much love and devotion?" the doctor questioned.

"You now that it's not really a question of deserving it. Still, maybe you can answer your own question. You said you saw him awake, right?" Jo looked at her with a serious expression. There was no doubt in her mind her friend already knew the answer.

"You're right, I shouldn't even ask that. There is something special about Sam Winchester, something that isn't really easily explained. On one hand he is like an innocent little boy, looking at you with those blue green eyes of his, making you want to hug and protect him. On the other hand, the moment you look into those eyes, you know that there is a lot of intelligence, but also sadness hidden behind them, more sadness than someone his age should have experienced." Her eyes met the ones of the nurse, suddenly wishing she was a transplant surgeon and could give her own kidney to her patient.

There was a pregnant pause, during which both women were lost in there own thoughts.

It was Jo, who finally spoke up, "Do you remember Dr. Colton?"

For just a moment there was a blank look on the other female's face, before the light went on in her mind, "You mean Thomas Colton, transplant surgeon at John Hopkins? How could I forget him, he is brilliant."

"Yeah, and he also has a heart for impossible cases and owes you a favor for saving his wife's life, when both of them were brought in after an accident on there way through town."

Suddenly Dr. Finch smiled, "I'll call him first thing in the morning. If he says yes, we just have to see if Sam's brother is a match or maybe his uncle."

The nurse stood up, "Better get to work, my shift starts in a couple of minutes. I sure hope this will work out. This family deserves a break."

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Nurse Jo saved checking on Sam Winchester until after all her other patients were taken care of. She had some plans and knew it would take time to complete them. Entering the room, she greeted the two men as cheerful as was able to after getting a first look at them.

Each was sitting in one of the hospital recliners; obviously some compassionate soul had moved a second one into the small ICU room. It was a little difficult to see the face of the older, as the ever present ball cap did a great job of hiding it, still the trained eyes of the nurse could still see the sunk in cheeks and dark shadows beneath his eyes. There was nothing to hide in Dean's face though, his eyes red rimmed, his cheeks sunken and his skin pale from not enough sleep.

It was the expression in their eyes though, that concerned Jo most. With little to no hope left to feed it, the spark in them was going out. Knowing that she couldn't let this happen, she sent a silent prayer to heaven, then without loosing a breath, walked up to the bed.

"I was hoping I would finally see you awake tonight, Sam, but I guess you decided to make me wait a little longer." She addressed the comatose young man, "Well, I can understand, after all I'm already taken and a little old for you. Still, it's not very nice to make a lady wait on you."

Checking the IV lines and the monitor readings, she continued, undisturbed by the looks she received from Dean, "Well, I guess I'll give you a break this time, but only for a while. I expect you to wake up and smile at me pretty soon here."

She checked his bedding then looked at dark stubble on his face, "Oh my, you look like you could use a shave. Looks like Nurse Dinah must have been here the last few days, she likes bearded men. If I can tell you a secret though," she bent forward, lowering her voice slightly, but not enough that the other two men would miss her words, "the guys she dates usually so ugly, you couldn't bear looking at them without a beard."

There was a chuckle coming from Bobby and a quick look out of the corner of her eye told her that even Dean's mouth had moved upwards a bit.

"But you my dear are way too handsome to look this way. So let's get this taken care of."

She walked over to the sink and pulled a bowl and some disposable shaving supplies out of a drawer. Filling the bowl with warm water, she took a towel and clean washcloth from another drawer, before taking everything over to the bed and setting it down on the side table. With practiced skill, she started to shave the dark beard of the pale face, wishing she could just will the young man to wake up.

Finished, she looked at her work, gently stroking her hand over the now smooth skin, "Great, now Sam, I really could use your help with the next job. I think your brother would look almost as handsome as you, if he would shave too."

There was a grumble to be heard from Dean's direction and Jo couldn't hide a smirk. Continuing, she said, "And maybe you could convince him that with a little sleep and a great breakfast he might come really close."

"If you're trying to tell me something here, than just say it" Dean complained, "But I'll tell you right away, I'm not gonna leave Sam."

The nurse threw a glance at Bobby, indicating, that what she was just about to say was meant for him also. Turning towards the older Winchester, she straightened out, "Look, I understand you don't want to leave your brother and I also know that he needs you on his side, but have you looked into a mirror lately? You look almost as bad as he does and I bet you have to buckle your belt two holes tighter." Seeing the 'deer caught in the headlight' look on the face, she knew she hit the nail on its head. With a slightly softer voice, she went on, "You both need to eat and sleep. You're not leaving Sam, just because you're getting a few hours of decent sleep, making sure your stomach doesn't growl at him and taking a shower. I bet he would even feel guilty for causing all this."

Without wanting to, Dean confessed, "You have no idea how right you are. The kid takes on guilt by osmosis."

"You have to talk, that's like the pot calling the kettle black." The grouchy voice of Bobby Singer came from the background.

"Okay, I make you a deal!" The nurse smiled, knowing she won before either of the two men knew it. "There is a small room with two cots at the end of the hall. It was meant for the on-calls to sleep there during the quiet times, but no one has used it in a long time, because it's so far off from the elevator and stairs. It takes too long to get to the emergency department, so most of the docs' prefer to crash on the couch in either the office up here or downstairs. It's perfect for the two of you though. It has an intercom in it and if anything would be going on, I could just page right in there. And I serve you breakfast in here, if you go now and sleep. Otherwise, I might just think about having security throw you out and not let you in until after my shift ends."

Although even a weary Dean could tell she wasn't serious about her threat, he still decided that maybe she was right. Sammy needed him, but he was no good to him, if he wasn't at his best.

"Alright, let's go Bobby." He agreed, still a little hesitant, "But I'm counting on you to call us, if Sam even as much as twitches!"

"Promise!" The nurse put her hand on her heart, to indicate she was serious.

Almost out of the door, Dean turned, an ever so tiny grin lightened up his handsome features, "Oh, and I want pancakes, blueberry syrup, three eggs over easy and bacon for breakfast and Bobby hear prefers his eggs scrambled with cheese."

"Order noted!" She smiled, thankful for a small victory and hopeful for some good news by the time she would return tomorrow night.

TBC

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_I had a little trouble with this chapter; I hope it still flows okay. Let me know, if you like it. At least there is a ray of hope on the horizon now. Hugs, Vonnie_


	18. Chapter 18

_Thanks for all your support. Here is the next chapter. Hope you have fun. Oh and by the way, wanted to point you towards another aut__hor – __**Leila1x1980**__. She writes in German, but I've been trying to help her translate her stories. So why don't you check out her story __**'The Hell within You'**__ and let her know what you think. It would be great to know too how I'm doing with the translating, because it's easier to write in either language than to actually translate from one into the other. _

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Neither Dean nor Bobby had expected to get any sleep, so they were surprised, when a knock at the door woke them. The voice coming from the outside was easily identified as that of the kind nurse.

"If you want breakfast before I go home, you better get up. It will be served in Sam's room in five minutes."

"Thanks!" The older Winchester mumbled, peeling out of the blanket.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he stepped into his jeans, before putting his button down shirt back on.

Looking over at his friend, who by now was dressed also, he said, "Man, I can't believe it, but I slept like a log."

"Yeah me too, sure could use a shower and a change of clothes though."

Looking up and down on first the other man, then himself, Dean couldn't help but agree. He didn't quite remember how long it had been, but he knew it had been too long. Still, right now he wanted nothing more than get back to his brother, make sure nothing changed overnight.

Without waiting to see, if the older man was following, he walked out and made his way back to Sam's room. Opening the door, he ignored the cheerful "Good Morning!" from Jo and stormed to his brother's side.

"Hey Sammy, I'm back. Sorry for leaving you, I really didn't want to, but I do feel a more awake now, so maybe you would consider waking up now too." Squeezing his kid brother's lax hand, he added, "I even promise to take a shower later, if that will help?"

The nurse smiled, as she listened to the words. Also still rough looking, there was a little more color to Dean's cheeks and his eyes weren't quite as dull either. The same could be said for the older man, who was standing in the background, giving his nephews a moment.

"Sam had a quiet night. His vital signs were stable until this morning, then his blood pressure started to fluctuate a little bit, but this evened out after he started his dialysis treatment." She said, before pointing at the small table she set up, "Why don't you sit down and enjoy your breakfast. I checked with administration and they will continue to let you use the room you slept in last night. At least for the time being, if one of the doc's wants to use it, we will let you know. You probably seen that it has a small bathroom and shower in it to."

After hearing the condition report the older brother returned his attention back to the comatose younger hunter and missed the rest of what the nurse explained. So it was Bobby, who took over now.

"Thanks for everything, I know it doesn't look like it, but we do appreciate it." Not really being a man of many words, he wasn't sure what else to say, but finally added, "We never can repay you, but if there ever…!"

Jo interrupted him with a smile on her lips, "No need for a payback, it's my pleasure. If you really want to do something though, why don't you tell me a little bit about those boys? Not right now, I have to get home, but maybe tonight, during my break."

For a moment Bobby's hunter instinct went on high alert, but his knowledge of people settled it within a second. From what he could see, the woman in front of him was genuinely interested and had no alternative motives in mind.

"I've got some stories to tell about those two, so if you want to hear them, I'll tell them." He actually looked forward to it, as some of the times he spent with his boys had been the best in his life.

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Feeling halfway human again after the sleep and chowing down on the hearty breakfast the nurse had served them, Bobby decided it was time to pick up some clothes for both of them. Still reeling from the memory of when he went home the last time, the grizzled hunter went shopping instead, returning an hour later with a duffel bag.

Setting it down on a chair, he unzipped it and started to unveil what he had bought. First he took out two tee shirts, a pair of jeans, a button down shirt and several pair of socks, before topping them with three pair of boxers and handing it to the oldest Winchester.

Dean stared at the clothes in his hands for a moment, before giving him an incredulous look.

"Dude, did you really just buy underwear for me? That's so…, I mean not even dad would do that after I turned twelve or so."

"Get over it." Bobby was unmoved, although on the inside he was smiling, as this was the first time Dean mentioned his father without freezing up.

"At least put 'em back in the bag, before anyone comes in here."

The older man shook his head, "Son, you're truly strange. I bet you wouldn't mind it so much, if one of those younger nurses would see you wearing them."

"That's totally different!" Dean complained in a way only he could.

Bobby snorted, "I'm not gonna argue with you about that. I'm gonna take a shower. I recommend you do the same, when I come back!"

"I will, don't worry." The younger man said, turning back to his baby brother. He really needed to concentrate on getting through to Sam.

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Although the younger man had agreed to taking a shower, it took a lot of threatening from Bobby's side, to finally get him to leave. He was reluctant to leave his brother's side again and was hoping to convince the salvage yard owner, it could wait until night time. Only after the older man told him he would call one of the younger nurses in and have her give him the 'sniff' test, did he finally relent.

After returning, his hair still wet, he found Dr. Finche in the room, sitting beside Bobby at his brother's bedside.

Instantly on high alert, his voice started slightly, when he asked, "Anything wrong?"

"No." The doc hurried to say, "I actually have some news that could be good." She added, trying to be careful how she expressed herself, as she didn't want to give either man false hope.

"What is it?" Although he tried to keep his expectations down, he couldn't help but hope. After everything that had happened, there had to be something positive. Looking over at his friend, he could read the same in the other man's eyes.

"Why don't you sit down?" She pointed at the third chair. Waiting until he was seated, she finally started, "You know the kidney Sam has left is not really working and it doesn't look like there is enough viable tissue left to make any difference."

She paused, taking in the expressions on the faces of the men, before she continued, "We really need to get Sam a transplant as soon as possible, but the problem has been that it is considered unethical to perform a transplant or even put someone on the transplant list, if they are in a coma that isn't directly due to the renal failure and considered reversible with the procedure."

"You mean my brother is supposed to die, because some bureaucrats made up some weird laws?" Dean jumped up, his voice expressing the anger he felt.

"Sit down and shut ya cake hole!" Bobby demanded, "The doc here is obviously trying to tell us something."

Only reluctantly the younger man returned to his seat and sat.

Dr. Finch smiled, "I understand, but you get the wrong idea about what I'm trying to tell you. I talked to a transplant surgeon from John Hopkins today. He owes me a favor and he is willing to come on the weekend and evaluate Sam."

She once again stopped, letting the two men and especially Dean take in the news.

"But you said you couldn't put Sam on the transplant list!" The older hunter gave her a confused look.

"There is a good chance we won't have to. Family is usually the best match for a kidney transplant. If you are willing, we will test you and Dean and if one or both of you are a match and your kidneys are functioning at a hundred percent, you could be donors for Sam."

Dean was shaking again, but this time it was with excitement, "Okay, what are you waiting for. Do whatever you need to."

Not having expected anything less, the physician said, "We'll start with some blood tests, if they turn out well, we will do an ultrasound and possibly a scan of your kidneys, to make sure they look good." Seeing the older man's head sink, she turned to him, "Anything wrong Mr. Singer?"

"I might be their uncle, but I'm not blood!" Bobby confessed with sadness in his voice.

"Oh, well, we still test you, it's not impossible that you're a match after all." She said with an encouraging smile. The way the older man acted, she would have never suspected he wasn't their real uncle, actually; he seemed to be so much more than that. "Now if you excuse me, I'm going to get the orders down to the lab."

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He was still walking, but by now stumbling was probably more likely to describe what he was doing. There was still twilight and he was still not getting anywhere. The area never changed and the road always went straight ahead. No up, no down, no curves, there weren't even any crossroads. Sometimes, when the constant twilight got too much for him and his head ached so bad, it felt like it would explode, he would close his eyes and continue on blind. It didn't really matter, as there was never anything in his way that could make him fall, except maybe his own feet.

His mind continued to be blank, unable to remember, where he was, what he was doing here or who he was. It appeared more and more likely he was really not going anywhere, because if he did, wouldn't he know? Wouldn't there be changes in his environment. Maybe time was standing still and that's why it remained twilight?

He felt so lonely, it almost hurt. There was none of the music…music so loud, he could almost hear it and yet once more it was the big 'almost', the reaching out and loosing whatever he was reaching for, before he ever could hold on to it. It was like the face – it flashed in front of him again and again, teasing his mind, telling him it belonged to someone important to him, someone he loved, just to laugh at him and disappear, before he ever could find the name belonging to it.

He wanted to scream, yet every time he opened his mouth nothing came out of it. Wanted to fall down and couldn't, wanted to run away and had no way to move them any differently then he was right now. Tears of despair ran down his cheeks. Why couldn't he remember? He was sure he was some one and yet without memories, did it really matter? Weren't memories and experiences what made him who he was? Weren't the people, who mattered to him the ones, who kept him human? If he didn't have this, maybe he wasn't anyone? Maybe he wasn't human after all?

Walking, stumbling, closing his eyes, unable to do anything else, he wanted nothing more than to die and even that was denied to him. Complete and utter emptiness, desolation beyond words and understanding, total absence of hope…

His eyes opened unwillingly, first to slits, then wider as the face appeared again. This time it was clearer, smiling at him and he could make the green of the eyes. And just before it disappeared again, one word wrote itself onto his mind, one word that was edging itself into his soul, staying with him, even after the face disappeared, because it meant everything to him – BROTHER.

TBC

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_So what do you think? Let me know again, please. And by the way, do you think Nu_rse Jo deserves to hear some little Sam and Dean stories? Hugs, Vonnie


	19. Chapter 19

_Sorry for the wait, the site wouldn't let me upload until today, but it finally is working again. Once again, thank you for your support. A special thanks to the two anonymous reviewers, Oli and Lushis Lou, I can't thank you personally, so here it is instead. So on with the story. _

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Bobby Singer was smiling as he set out to talk about his boys to Nurse Jo. He actually had looked forward to this all day. After the sadness and worry of the last few days and weeks it was something positive and he felt also that it might help Dean and maybe even Sam, to hear a few things about how they've been more than just close ever since the very beginning.

He could tell the woman in front of him was waiting with poorly hidden anticipation for what he had to tell. It made him proud to see what kind of effect those two had on other people, they both were truly special.

"Well, I hope you won't be disappointed, those boys were quite the brats at times."

"I'm sure, I won't be." Jo smirked, "I raised a few of those myself."

Dean, who was at his usually spot at Sam's side, decided to put in a protest, "So I don't get asked, if I want anyone else to hear those stories?"

"Nah, you just get to keep your cake hole shut and listen. And by the way, I don't think you ever heard this one either. Your daddy told me it a long time ago."

Suddenly the older brother was all ears, something his dad told Bobby, that he didn't know about? That had to mean it happened a real long time ago, maybe even before their mom died.

The older hunter just grinned, "Yep, the boy's daddy, he didn't talk a lot about the time before their mom died. Don't think he ever talked to them about it at all, but one time, when both of them were sick with a really bad cold, he told me a few things. You know Sammy here, he was born in early May, just when things started to get really nice outside and everything was blooming. They had a yard down there in Kansas and Mary, their mom, loved to take the boys outside. John said, she would just take the baby's bassinette and set it underneath a tree in the shade and then sit beside it, watching Dean play in the sand box. There was a fence around, so it was pretty safe and one afternoon, Sammy must have been about six weeks old, she must have dosed off, probably been up all night with the little one, so she was tired. Their daddy said Sammy was a tiny little thing, although you wouldn't believe it, when you look at the boy today."

The older man glanced over to the bed and had to pause for a moment, as he secretively wiped a tear away, which had run down his cheek. He remembered so well, how small the younger brother still had been, when he met the two for the first time.

"Well, anyway, she woke up, because the baby was screaming. When she looked over, there was Dean with a sand pail and a little shovel in his hand, playing in the bassinette.

John told me, he had put several buckets full of sand into the little bed and when he saw Mary woke up, he asked her, 'Mommy, why doesn't Sammy want to play with me? I even brought the sand to him, but he just screams. Doesn't he like to play with me?'

The kind nurse couldn't help but laugh, this was too funny, although she could see the young mother might have been more upset at the time.

"Mary must have reacted just like you." The grizzled hunter went on, "She must have been worried about the baby, but at the same time amused and touched by her older boys concerns. She took the baby out of the bassinette and made sure she wiped all the sand of him and when the little guy settled down she took Dean on her knees and started to explain to him, that his baby brother was too little to play with sand or any of the other big boy toys and he would have to wait for at least another year. But that Sammy would love to play other things with him. And then she took them inside and gave the baby a bath and showed Dean, how to use the squeaky toys and other baby things to make his little brother laugh and gurgle. I guess this solved the problem, because John told me after that Dean spent more time playing with baby toys then with his own."

"I don't remember any of this," the older Winchester said sadly, "but I do remember making Sammy laugh. I thought it was so funny, when he gurgled and giggled until bubbles would come out of his mouth."

The nurse looked at the young man, who was once again holding his little brother's hand. It seemed her judgment had been right all along; those two had a very special relationship. It wasn't often she got to see this much dedication. Out loud she said, "There aren't a lot of little boys that age that don't get bored really fast playing with their baby brothers. You really loved your brother from the very beginning."

Dean blushed a little, concentrating on his brother when he said, "But Sammy was fun, he always was happy, when he saw me. And after mom died, he was my responsibility."

"I don't want to pry, but can I ask you how old you were, when your mom died?"

"I was four and Sammy was six months." Dean answered, still not looking at her.

Her heart was breaking for both of them, but right now especially for the young man, who had been taking responsibility for his little brother since he'd been only a toddler himself.

"I'm sorry; this must have been really difficult."

Once again putting Sam first, he said, "Yeah, but at least I remember her, Sammy never got to know our mom."

Jo thought for a moment, "Sometimes it's harder to remember what you lost, then to never know, what you've been missing."

"Maybe that's true." Dean agreed, "But many times, when I was scared or sad, I thought about my mom holding me and singing to me or making me feel better and it was a little bit like she was still there. Sammy would always look at other kids and couldn't understand, why he couldn't have, what they had. He always longed for normalcy, without ever knowing what it really was."

"But he had you, Dean!" Bobby now spoke up, after listening to the conversation between the nurse and his oldest for a while, "I don't think your mom could have done any better by that boy than you did."

Jo nodded in silent agreement, as sad as it was to grow up without a mother, she was sure Sam found a lot of what he was missing in his older brother, probably returning the favor by adoring Dean more than most other kids adored their big brothers. Looking at her watch she realized her break was over and although she loved her work, she felt almost sad of having to leave now.

"I have to get back to work. I'll check Sam here really fast before I leave and then you two can get some sleep too. I'll wake you again in the morning and have breakfast ready."

Although it was a suggestion, both men recognized it was more an order. But by now they knew the nurse well enough to understand her intentions. At the same time they also understood that getting as much rest as possible was important, because if either of them turned out to be a donor match for their youngest, they would need to be healthy.

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The next day kept Dean and Bobby busy with the tests Dr. Finch had talked about. By the time both of them were done going through ultrasounds, MRIs and a couple more blood tests, the morning and half of the afternoon were gone. After that either man was on edge and anxiously waiting for the results and unable to relax until the female doctor finally walked into the room around supper time.

The older Winchester jumped up and took a few steps toward the physician, while the older hunter stayed seated but expectantly leaned forward.

"Sorry to let you wait so long, I had an emergency surgery to do. So let me just say it looks good."

Excitement spread over Dean's face, "You mean I'm a match?" There was still some doubt in his voice.

"Yes, you are a perfect match for your brother and your kidneys are in great shape." Dr. Finch smiled.

"All right!!!" The young man almost jumped as he turned and looked first at his friend, then walked to his brother's side, "I told you Sammy, you gonna be just fine."

The salvage yard owner watched with a smile on his face. He was glad Dean's attention was on his little brother and because of it he didn't see the tears in the older man's eyes. They were tears of joy in fact, since his boys were finally getting a break. Wiping his arm across his eyes, he didn't realize he was watched closely by the doctor. Giving him a moment of privacy, she finally stepped closer and put her hand on his shoulder.

"Just in case you're wondering, you are a match too, Mr. Singer." She told him, "And your kidneys are doing well, they could be the ones of a thirty year old."

For a moment Bobby didn't know what to say. It wasn't the news of his kidneys working well, but rather that he actually was a match for Sam, which overwhelmed him. He knew he wasn't blood to the boys and it never mattered to him, they always had been his almost as much as John's, yet this made him feel even closer to them. Sure, he would never try and talk Dean out of giving his kidney to his brother. The boy needed to do that, but just knowing, he could if necessary, was more than enough.

"Thanks doc!" He simply stated, reading in her eyes that she understood.

"I'm glad things are looking good. Dr. Carmichael is going to be here tomorrow afternoon. He's planning to spend a few hours checking Sam and talk to you, before he makes his decision."

"You mean he doesn't know yet, if he is going to do the surgery?" Dean asked from his post by his brother's bed.

"Not officially." Dr. Finch gave him an encouraging smile, "But I don't think you have to worry, he is bringing his head surgical nurse with him. I don't think he would be doing that, if he wasn't at least fairly sure he will like what he is going to see."

Both men suddenly felt a whole lot lighter, it really looked like things were going to go their way for once.

Dean looked down at the comatose young man. The only movement visible continued to be the gently rise and fall of his chest, too little for the usually so animated younger Winchesters. Although Sam was mostly the quieter one, the think, before acting, researching for hours kind of guy, is body was never completely still. If nothing else, his features would move, even while going through, what Dean would consider dry reading material, expressing every little change in his emotions. Not even sleep could settle him, as his bed looked more like a battle field on most mornings.

So observing his baby brother like this was more than concerning to the older man, yet now he finally felt real hope. Being in so many ways the complete opposite of the younger, he wasn't used to not being able to do anything. This had changed now; he finally felt he had at least regained some control. He would be able to give part of himself to make Sam better. It was a small price to pay to give his kidney, if it brought his brother back to him. And he knew, he would give his heart for the kid, if he needed it.

His thoughts returning to the presence, he smiled, as his hands brushed through Sam's hair, "Few more days, kiddo and you'll be good as new. Now if you just could give up that snoozing act, things would really look up. I know I've called you a girl several times, even gave you several girl's names, but Sleeping Beauty was never one of them, you're really not pretty enough for that." He smirked, knowing if Sam would have been awake, he would have gotten a snarky remark back and hoping that maybe somewhere in there his brother was able to hear him.

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He was beyond tired by now and it was only the invisible power keeping him upright. Yet maybe there was something else, too that was even greater and kept him going despite the exhaustion and the twilight. His mind was hanging on to the memory of the face, for which he still didn't have a name, but which the word "brother" had made more real then before. It brought him a warm comfort, a peace even that made him long for more. Brother, he felt it with every bit of his being, was more than just a word made out of seven random letters. It was made up of love and laughter, understanding and safety and it was synonymous with the safety of home.

And that's what kept him up, kept him putting one foot in front of the other, no matter how much the twilight hurt his eyes and made his head ache, no matter how tired his legs were and how desperately his body was screaming for sleep. This one word was all powerful in his mind.

The road continued to run straight ahead, mind-numbingly lacking excitement, making him take up saying the word out loud, "Brother, brother, brother…", he whispered it, said it, screamed it, sang it, until his voice was hoarse and then still went on, until something happened, something that surprised him, made him stumble and stop dead in his tracks. It was here again and this time it wasn't just the face with the intense green eyes, it was the whole person. It was so close; he could feel the warmth the breath on his skin. His brother was wearing a worn brown leather jacket and jeans torn above the knees, a crooked smirk decorated his face and his eyebrows waggled at him. Turning, he walked away, one more time looking back at him, beckoning him to follow, before fading out of his reach once more.

No, he couldn't leave, not again, he needed him. Stumbling forward, for the first time actually running, he screamed, "No, no, don't go, please Dean…"

TBC

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_So I hope you liked the story Bobby had to tell, because there are at least one or two more to come. Let me know again what you think. I absolutely love your comments. Hugs, Vonnie_


	20. Chapter 20

_Thanks again for all your support. I love you all, it is so much fun to read your comments and it really keeps me going._

_This chapter is dedicated to Lisa (Maxandkiz) as a belated birthday present. Hope you will enjoy it. _

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Bobby and Dean were surprised and even a little disappointed, when Nurse Jo didn't show up for the night shift. The woman entering the room instead explained quickly that she had asked Jo to switch with her, as she needed Sunday off. So now she was going to work the next two nights, while their favorite nurse was going to keep track of them during the daytime.

The older hunter mumbled something unintelligible, but got silenced by a kick in the shin from Dean. Still grumbling, he stood up and walked out to get some coffee. He really had taken a liking to the nurse and had looked forward to telling her another story about his boys. Now he would have to wait another day and although he hadn't been able to tell those stories to anyone before, it seemed like way too long to have to wait another day.

Returning a few minutes later with two cups of steaming coffee, he handed one to Dean, while he put the other on the night stand. He observed their youngest, looking for any changes in his condition. Finding the kid just as motionless, as he had been for the last few days, the emotions running through him almost started to overwhelm him. Who would have ever thought that he, the tough old hunter would be topple by some kids. Well, okay young man by now, but still. Damn it, if he didn't watch it, he would turn into complete mush. Where would that leave his reputation?

Lost in thought his mind wandered back through the events of the last few weeks. He couldn't believe how much John's death had left his life in uproar. The man had been a good friend; maybe his best and even his throwing the guy out a few years ago, threatening him with his shot gun, wouldn't change any of this. He always knew the Winchester patriarch was likely to die of unnatural causes, yet neither did he think it would happen the way it did, nor did he expect having to pick up the pieces of the man's sons in the aftermath. Not that he minded taking the boys in, or even being there for them during their time of grief, but this, this was more than he ever expected.

Yet the last few weeks had also shown him that over the years John's sons had become his as well and no matter the mess and the emotional involvement, he wasn't willing to give them up anymore. If someone would have mentioned to him a year ago he would be eager to donate one of his organs up, he would have called that person a complete and utter 'idjit'. Now it meant more to him, than he could ever put into words. To be a match for Sam made him feel truly connected to them.

He was fighting with himself, if he should tell Dean not to donate his kidney, but let him, the older man, who had less to loose do it. Yet there was something that told him, the older Winchester really needed to do this. After all the guilt he felt over how he treated his kid brother and how he had been beating himself up since then, he needed to know it was him, who was giving Sam back life. This wasn't about him, this was about the boys.

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When the two men entered Sam's room the next morning breakfast was already waiting for them. Sitting down and enjoying the food, both of them watched how Nurse Jo quietly checked Sam's vital signs and efficiently hooked up the dialysis machine.

"So today is the big day." She said, "I heard both of you are matches, how wonderful. Sam is lucky; many patients have to wait for a long time to find a suitable match."

"Kid definitely could use a little luck. Things have not been easy lately, for either of the boys." Bobby replied.

"I'm sure they haven't been, but it's gonna get better now, you'll see." She smiled.

Dean rolled his eyes, suddenly reminding Bobby very much of his younger brother. He couldn't hold the laugh back, receiving a confused look from older Winchester.

"Never mind…" He shook his head, "I don't think you want to hear this!"

"Get it out old man, or you might regret it!" Dean playfully threatened his friend.

"Alright, alright, I give up…" Bobby lifted his hands up in fake surrender, "I was just wondering, who is the bigger princess, you or Sammy?" He ducked, when the piece of toast that had just been in Dean's hand, came flying at him.

The nurse laughed, enjoying the banter and wondering how it would be, if the young man lying in the bed would join them. Although all her extra effort was given without expectations, she couldn't help but think it would be a special kind of reward, if she could see those men together after Sam recovered from his ordeal.

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The day turned out to be really busy for Nurse Jo, as several patients were being moved out of the ICU into other areas of the hospital. It was mid afternoon before she was finished with her work. At this time Sam Winchester remained the only patient under her care and she was no able to devote more time to him and his family.

After giving her patient a thorough check up, she poured coffee from the thermal carafe she brought into cups and handed them to the two older men. Pouring one for herself, she sat down.

"Alright, I'm ready to hear some more about little Dean and Sam. The last one just made me anxious to hear more." She took a drink from the hot steaming brew, clearly enjoying the drink as much as the two hunters.

Bobby sat his cup down and looked at her thoughtfully, "You know Dean here was really a shy little guy when I first met him. Didn't talk much and his little brother, well, he wasn't old enough for talking yet. He just giggled and made all kinda noises, but when he finally said something anyone could understand, it wasn't 'dada' or anything like that, no, his first word was 'De'. It took him several months before he started to talk more; he seemed to be content with looking at his big brother and saying his name. Seemed like Dean always knew what he wanted."

Dean smirked and added, "Yeah, I remember and then he started to call you 'Bubba', which you really didn't appreciate. I remember you trying to make him say Uncle Bobby forever."

"Didn't thing anyone would notice that." The older man grumbled good-naturedly, "I was so glad, when Sammy finally gave up on the Bubba and called me Unca Bobba. I sure wouldn't have liked any of my friends getting to hear the other name."

Jo had to hold back a laugh, as she tried to picture an about twenty years younger Bobby attempting to teach a little toddler to say his name right. It had to have been adorable.

"As soon as the little tike could walk he was like a little duckling, always waddling after his older brother. If you saw Dean, you could count on Sammy being right behind him, usually holding on to his shirt." Bobby continued, "Sometimes I almost felt sorry for the kid, he hardly ever got to do anything appropriate for his age, because the little guy couldn't do those things."

"Hey, sometimes dad played baseball with me, when Sammy took a nap. And by the way, Sammy was fun to play with." The older Winchester protested.

"He did love you a lot and he showed it to. Remember when you were sick that one time? I think Sammy wasn't quite three. You were running a temperature and your daddy was going to check it by putting the thermometer under your arm." The grizzled hunter let out a snort at the memory, "The earnest look on the little guys face, when he shook his head and protested, 'uhuh daddy, you gots to put it in the butt. Doc says its wrongeded like this.' and he wouldn't let up until John at least pretended to do it."

"Yeah, I thought he would really do it. Boy was I relieved that he just stuck it underneath me and that Sammy couldn't see it because I was covered with blanket. That was one time; I really didn't want him there." Dean confessed.

"But when it turned out you had the measles and we wouldn't let Sammy be with you anymore, the kid first wouldn't quit crying and then refused to eat. No matter how often we tried to tell him that you were going to be okay and we just didn't want him to get sick too, he insisted that you were dead. It almost brought tears to my eyes. He just sat there, telling your daddy over and over again, 'De dieded just like mommy'. John finally couldn't take it anymore and just let him be with you. Funny thing is, Sammy never did get the measles."

"You never told me about that, I just remember dad opening the door and Sammy storming in." Dean said, "Now it made sense, why he almost squeezed me to death and then kept hugging me all the time. He kept saying, 'Sammy was scareded De, please don't go away. Sammy love you'. When I started to feel better, it was the best time of my live. He constantly snuck treats in my room and one time he even gave me his favorite stuffed animal, Eeyore and insisted I would keep it. He didn't take no for an answer either, even though he never slept without that donkey. So that night, when I heard him cry, I made some crying noises too and when he asked me, why I was crying, I told him, it wasn't me, it was Eeyore, because he missed him so much. Should have seen the look on his face, when I said I just couldn't have that poor little guy cry and he really needed to sleep with him but he didn't want me to feel lonely. He just crawled in my bed and put his arms around the donkey and me."

Bobby laughed, although for a moment he was close to tears also, "No wonder your daddy was asking me, why you two were sleeping in one bed, both hugging the donkey?"

It was amazing for the nurse to hear the two men talking and she couldn't help the feeling of warmth that spread through her. Those two boys had lost so much and yet had managed to be more of a family then many normal families were. In the process it seemed they had given a lonely recluse a chance to become part of them. It was no longer amazing to her why they seemed to have such a close bond, which was clearly bridging even the divide Sam's coma opened up. She had no idea, if they had any idea, what they had, but it was clear that she had the privilege of being witness to something very rare and precious.

"Excuse me."

The voice of Dr. Finch coming from the door made the three of them turn around. The female doc was standing besides a tall athletic looking man with short auburn colored hair.

"Oh, hi Dr. Carmichael." Jo stood up to greet the doctor, "Good to see you again, did you just get here?"

"About an hour ago, Dr Finch showed me the few pages she didn't fax me and then she brought me here. We got here just in time to hear the last story."

"You did!" It was a statement that came from the firstborn Winchester.

"You must be Dean…" The man, standing about an inch taller than the young hunter, held out his hand.

A little reluctant, the hunter finally took it, feeling the firm grip of the other man, as steel blue eyes met his.

"And you are Mr. Singer, the uncle…" The man stated, shaking Bobby's hand also, "It's good to meet you. Let me check out Sam and then we can talk about the details of the surgery." He continued, already focusing on his patient. After finishing he turned, this time addressing Dr. Finch.

"Looks like he is doing quite well for everything he's been through. It's hard to believe he is so deeply unresponsive."

Before the female doctor could say anything, Dean jumped in, his voice sounding worried, "Is this going to be a problem?"

"No, I already decided I would do the transplant before I came here and listening to your uncle and you talking only strengthened my resolve." He paused for a second, "I think your brother has a good chance to come out of his coma, but I don't think the surgery is going to be what is going to fix this. I have a feeling the only one that can do that is you."

Dean stared at the man like he had grown two heads, while Bobby, although astounded, smiled. He liked this doctor, who seemed to have an uncanny ability to judge people right before others even knew what to make of them.

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After Dr. Carmichael explained what was going to happen during the surgery and what the risks involved were for both, donor and receiver, he went over some of the details for normal recovery. Mentioning the anti-rejection drugs Sam would have to take from now on, Dean stopped him.

"What are you saying; my brother will have to take pills for the rest of his life?"

The transplant surgeon looked at him, "Yes, the thing is, even with an exact match Sam's body will identify the kidney as something foreign and his immune system will start producing antibodies. If we can't stop that process, the new organ will be rejected. That's why we will start him on a combination of immuno-suppressant medications right away."

The oldest Winchester continued to look worried, "But if you suppress his immune system, isn't he going to get sick?"

"That is certainly a risk, but because of that risk, we keep testing his blood and watching for any signs of rejection, while we adjust the drug cocktail until we get to the lowest effective dose. He will still be at risk for infections, but most people do really well and don't have any problems." The doctor explained, certainly understanding the concern.

The young hunter looked at Bobby then turned toward his brother. Grabbing the younger man's hand, he held on to it with both of his.

"I gonna make sure you will take those pills and stay out of trouble. I will even get you the rabbit food you like so much every day from now on. I just wish you would finally wake up; it's kinda boring around here without your bitch face and your geeky comments."

Suddenly overwhelmed by the desire to see his brother's eyes and hear his voice, he let go of Sam's hand and cupped his face instead. Forgotten were the other people in the room, forgotten the upcoming surgery and all the hope it produced. Now only his need to bring Sam out of this unnatural state existed. No longer able to hold the tears back, he let them flow, ignoring the moisture that started to drip on his brother's face.

"Sammy, I need you, damn it, don't you get it? You are the only one left, I can't loose you too. Come back to me please!"

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He ran until his legs burned and his breath came out in heaves, hoping to reach the man again, see Dean, his brother, the only connection to anything outside this twilight world. Now his pace had slowed again, his sprint had gotten him nowhere- the area remained the same – desert and twilight.

He was so tired, not just physically, although that was certainly a big factor, but even more so mentally. Yet he kept going, kept staring at the horizon, hoping for a change, a gleam of light, a tiny sparkle, even a dark spot would be better than this right now. But there was nothing, just desert and twilight.

Where did he go? Where was Dean? Why didn't he stay? Was he just teasing him, only playing with him, while in reality he didn't want him? Continuing on, once again becoming desperate, hopelessness threatening to overtake him, he shook his head, tried to will his feet to stop, his muscles to bend and let his sit down. And still, his body wouldn't obey him, it was like something more powerful then willpower and exhaustion was driving it.

Letting his head sink and keeping his eyes fixed onto the ground, he trotted on, time passing without meaning, his mind putting out the endlessly repeating mantra, "Dean, brother, home…"

Without warning thunder started to roll in the distant, making his head snap up and his eyes and ears search out the source. It came closer, grew louder, until black clouds, who only seconds ago had been minute and far away, were right above him, looking heavy, like they were threatening to crush him. Rain drops began to drip on his face, only when one hit his tongue it tasted salty. Strange, rain didn't contain salt…!

And then he wasn't walking anymore, nor was he standing. Now he was lying flat on the ground, the rain still hitting his face, yet when he looked up, the clouds had parted and he looked at his brother again, actually feeling Dean's hands on his face, seeing the tears falling from his eyes.

Tears…, why was Dean crying?

"**Sammy, I need you, damn it, don't you get it? You are the only one left, I can't loose you too. Come back to me, please!"**

The desperate plea reached his ears, pierced his heart, making tears run down his face, before he even knew he was crying them. His hands reached up, holding on to his brother's arms at the same time as his eyes shot open.

"Dean, you too…"

TBC

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_So what you think? Exciting enough, or not? Let me know. Hugs, Vonnie_


	21. Chapter 21

_Sorry,__ for being late, but this is my weekend on call and it's been busy. Also, no cute WeeChester stories this time, but I promise, there will be more. This one is mostly fluff. Hope it's not going to be too much for you, but I had to get this out of my system. Thanks for being so supportive._

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After his desperate outburst Dean continued to stare down onto the comatose younger man without truly seeing him, his vision too blurred by the tears obstructing it. Still cupping his brother's face, he almost jerked away, when two hands shot up and grabbed hold of both his upper arms. Blinking once to clear his vision, he found himself faced by a pair of slightly cloudy, but widely open blue-green orbs.

"**Dean, you too…"**

The words coming from the mouth that had been silent for way too long were almost too soft for anyone to understand, yet that was okay, as they were meant for him only and he didn't have any trouble catching them.

For a moment he was unable to move, only able to keep staring into those intense eyes, his mind having difficulty establishing the connection between what his eyes saw, his ears heard and his arms felt. It almost was as if the lines were blocked or overloaded and only after another few seconds was he able to institute the link.

"Sammy…." He gasped breathlessly, his chest suddenly tight.

In the end instinct took over and he let go of Sam's face, instead his hands wrapping around the younger man. Not caring about IV line or other wires, his mind overwhelmed by the need to assure his senses weren't betraying him; he pulled his brother up and into a tight embrace, his face burying itself into the other's neck.

Feeling the younger man shift ever so slightly, he was finally capable to latch on to the truth of the events. The younger man was truly awake. And without the shadow of a doubt, he as well became aware that he was the reason Sam came back. Again he let his tears flow, only this time they were compiled of joy, of relief and most of all of gratefulness. After all that happened his brother heard him even deep inside his comatose mind and fought his way back to him, proving to him he still loved him. Hugging Sam even tighter, he felt the younger man's arms enveloping him too. Although the squeeze was weak, it meant more than Dean would ever be able to put into words. Instead he held on, a sob escaping his throat.

Sam continued to lie in his brother's embrace; his arms now hanging down loosely. His chin resting on Dean's shoulder, he allowed his own tears to flow unchecked, feeling incredibly weak and tired, like he walked for days without end, yet it didn't matter, because more than anything he felt safe, peaceful, loved. Letting out a content sigh, he leaned even more into his brother, enjoying the warmth of the other man's hold.

For either of them only the other mattered right now, the rest of the world seized to exist. Even their friend and the three medical professionals, who were watching with intentness didn't matter, a fact that really surprised Bobby. He was well aware of Dean's obsession with avoiding emotional displays, or chick flick moments as he called them. To see the older Winchester so openly affectionate with his baby brother brought tears to the experienced hunter's eyes.

Stealing a glance around he noticed he wasn't the only one with a leak in his tear ducts. Both Nurse Jo and Dr. Finch didn't even tried to hide that they were crying and Dr. Carmichael was as inconspicuously as possibly wiping the back of his hand over his eyes to hide the moisture standing in them.

Darn Winchesters, somehow they always managed to break people's hearts and be completely oblivious of it. John's philosophy of raising perfect soldiers obviously didn't only completely fail with Sam, but also didn't have the desired effect on Dean either. The man should have known better.

SN SN SN SN SN

Dean Winchester looked down on his once again sleeping brother, wondering how someone, who had just woken after being out for a week or so, could already by asleep again. It just seemed weird, but obviously being in a coma and sleeping weren't exactly the same thing. And Dr. Finch had assured him that Sam was doing fine and just needed all the rest he could get.

The older Winchester blushed a little at the thought of finding everyone staring at him, when he finally let go of his brother after holding on for to him for twenty minutes or longer. But it was really just a little, as in reality he didn't really care, who observed the moment of tenderness between them. Sam came back to him and he deserved, needed his big brother to show him just how much he missed him. And if he was honest with himself, it wasn't only the kid, who needed it. To feel his embrace return, no matter how short lived and weak, had meant so much to him. Even just being aware of the younger ones head on his shoulder, hearing the occasional soft sighs from him, made it worth loosing his hard assed reputation.

And hey, a lot of chicks seemed to did that kinda stuff in guys, after all, his giant little brother never seemed to have problems finding girls, he just didn't know how to milk it.

Dean looked up from the book he pretended to read; unable to shake the feeling he was being watched. He wasn't wrong either, as two hazel orbs were scrutinizing him from underneath half closed lids.

"Hey little bro, sleep well?"

There was a raspy noise, then a cough from the younger man, prompting Dean to pick up the ice water from the table and holding it to his lips.

"Drink slowly, wouldn't want you to choke." He coached.

Taking a few sips, obviously enjoying the feel of the cold liquid in his mouth, Sam let his head sink back into the pillow.

"Thanks, I feel better."

"Really…?" doubt colored the question.

"Yeah, just tired and weak." Sam locked eyes with his brother, letting Dean see he meant it.

"Good, just don't ever do this again!"

The younger man could hear the slight tremble hidden in the demanding tone, telling him something was wrong, but couldn't recall what exactly he had done to cause this distress.

Reading the confusion in his brother's eyes, Dean instantly regretted his outbreak. Softening his voice, he said, "You scared us, scared me." He corrected, "You were in a coma for the last week… I…I just didn't know, if you would come out of it again."

He paused and took a deep breath, "Look Sammy, I know I've told you before, but I have to say it again, I'm really sorry I was such an ass."

His tenseness rose as he watched for a reaction, hoping this time his brother would not blow him off. Seeing the younger man's eyes close, his head started to drop with disappointment, when the whisper coming from the other made him lift it again.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for. It was my fault. It was too little too late." The lonely tear rolling down the young man's face was mirrored by the one on his brother's cheek.

"No Sammy, it wasn't and I knew that. I was upset and I would have said anything to make you shut up. I didn't mean it."

"Really?"

Suddenly Sam reminded Dean more of a wide-eyed eight year old boy, than of the twenty-three year old he was. A smile appeared on his face, "Yeah, I do." Turning more serious again, he added, "You think you will ever be able to forgive me?"

"I already have, but you have to forgive me too."

For a moment Dean was going to protest, as he still wasn't sure what he was supposed to forgive, but seeing the puppy dog look on his brother's face, he decided to just roll with it, "I do, I promise."

Sam's eyes lit up, making Dean grateful for his decision. He didn't realize just how much he missed this expression of happiness. It made him even more excited about the next thing he had to tell to his brother.

"Sammy, there is something we have to talk about."

"You mean about me loosing one kidney and the other one not working?" The younger man gave him a slightly anxious look, suddenly looking very sad, "I know that I don't have much time left. I'm sorry that I have to hurt you again."

His brother looked at him, torn between confusion and distress. "You'll be just fine, you…."

Sam interrupted him, "It's alright, I know I'm going to die soon, I heard them talk."

"Heard who talk?" While Dean was still trying to digest the younger man's words, Bobby stood up, his voice now thundering through the room.

"Not sure, they thought I was sleeping, must have been someone from the cleaning crew and maybe a nurse or so. Just remember the smell of some kind of disinfectant cleaner." Sam answered.

"Idjits need to keep their mouths shut, when they don't know what they're talking about. I think, I need to get Rumsfeld up here, make some fire under their stupid asses." The hunter grumbled.

Although he was just as upset, Dean forced himself to stay calm, something that wasn't easy for him, but what was needed for Sammy's sake.

"Look, like Bobby said, whoever they were, they had no idea what they were talking about. You are not dying, I swear." Still seeing the doubt on his kid brother's face, he said, "I can proof it to you. It's all planned out, would have happened, even if you wouldn't have woken. Tomorrow you'll get one of my kidneys."

Dean's face was bright with the excitement of finally being able to share the news with his brother.

"No, no, no….you can't!" Sam's outburst took the older brother completely of guard, "Please, you can't do this."

"Why not?"

"Because you can't!" The younger man kept insisting.

"You have to explain that a little better to me, Sammy. See, as far as I know, it's my kidney and because I'm old enough, I can do with it whatever I want without asking you for permission." Dean said, his voice taking on a sarcastic streak.

"Not when it's supposed to go into my body." Sam shot back.

"What, my kidney's not good enough for you?" His brother asked with a snarl.

"That's not it…"

Seeing tears sparkling in the younger man's eyes, Dean knew he had gone top far, his brother wasn't ready for any kind of argument yet, "Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. I just can't understand what your problem is."

It took the younger Winchester a moment, before he was able to respond, "I…I just can't let you give up anything else for me!"

His head was turned away, the words hardly more than a sigh. Biting his lower lip to hide the quiver, he felt his chin suddenly being cupped and his head gently turned, so that he was eye to eye with his brother.

"What do you mean; you can't let me give up anything else for you? What have I given up for you?" Dean's voice was as gently as his touch now.

"Everything…" The younger brother swallowed hard, "…your whole life."

"And they call you the genius of the family." Dean smirked, "Mom died, dad became a hunter, that's the reason why my life, why our lives were what they were. Me taking care of you was only partially because dad gave you to me when you were six month old and continued to make me look after you. More than anything, it was because I needed someone just as much as you did."

Seeing his baby brother needed a little bit more convincing, he said, "Let me ask you this, would you have done the same, if you would have been the older brother?"

"You know I would." Sam spoke without thinking.

"And would you give me your kidney?"

This time the answer came a little slower, but was nonetheless honest, "Absolutely."

"See, so does that solve your problem?" Dean asked, hoping for another positive response.

"Not really, but it makes me understand." Sam's response was slightly hesitant and he hurried to add, "Look, I just don't want you to get sick later on because of what you're doing for me now!"

The older man smiled, "There are a lot of people with only one kidney and you and me going to be two of them. So what, between us, we'll still share a full set and they both will be mine, which means each of them counts at least twice, if not more. Hey and look at it this way, you'll get some of my awesomeness and maybe even some of my good looks."

At that Sam couldn't help but laugh.

"So are we good? Are we on for tomorrow?"

Sam looked at his him, suddenly realizing how much this really meant to his brother. Saying no would not only mean rejecting a gift, it would mean rejecting Dean. In the end there was no choice for him to make, since he could never reject his brother.

"Yeah, yeah…, we're on." He said with conviction, before he let his blue-green eyes meet Dean's green ones. There were no further words needed between them, the 'thank you' and 'you're welcome' written in those incredibly expressive orbs could not be missed, even Bobby, who was still quietly listening could hear them loud and clear.

TBC

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_So I hope you liked it and will let me know what you think. Hugs, Vonnie_


	22. Chapter 22

_Okay, so once again I'm trying to incorporate some requests here and I hope it turned out alright. This story has been mostly guided by reader's requests; it is not at all what I had planned in the beginning. But I can't say I'm unhappy with it at all, actually totally the opposite, I just hope you guys feel the same way. Thanks for being so wonderful._

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After the animated discussion about whether or not Sam would allow Dean to donate his kidney to him, the rest of the evening was spent in relative silence, both of them content with each others company. Although Sam felt incredibly tired, he was able to stay away and meet both doctors and having them explain the upcoming procedure to him. As it turned out, his greatest interest was in how Dean's surgery and recovery would go and what his outlook for the future was going to be, rather than in his own outcome.

Dr. Finch secretly smiled. Having gotten to know the older brother and his more than protective, to the point of self-denial, nature fairly well throughout the last few weeks, it made her happy to see that the younger man was in no way different, when it came to Dean. It would have been incredibly disappointing for her to find out that Sam was a spoilt brat, who didn't really deserve the love and sacrifice given so freely to him.

As soon as the two physicians left, Dean found his baby brother's eyes started to droop and although Sam tried to fight it, he was out for the count, before Dean was able to tell him it would be okay for him to do so, a fact that greatly relieved the older man. For his brother to go to sleep so easily after the conversation with the doctors could mean only one thing and that was that he truly accepted Dean's gift.

Reluctant to leave Sam for the night, the older Winchester finally gave in to reason, as the upcoming day needed to see him in the best possible shape for the surgery. So after talking to the nurse and making her swear to get him, if his brother needed him and a note pinned to the blanket in easy reach and clearly visible to Sam, telling him he was close by, Dean went to bed at last. Unable to go to sleep right away, it finally was Bobby's encouragement and distracting conversation, which in the end helped him to find the rest he needed.

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Early the next morning, when Nurse Jo stepped into Sam's room to hook him up to the dialysis machine, she found the two older men were sitting at his bedside already. Greeting them, she busied herself with hooking everything up and checking it, before she started the process.

Seeing the youngest Winchester watching her with big eyes, she said, "This is probably going to be the last time you have to go through this, although occasionally they might do one or two short treatments after the transplant to take some of the load of the new kidney. But Dr. Carmichael told me he doesn't expect this will be necessary."

Sam gave her a small smile, but didn't reply, really not sure what to say or think. The kind nurse returned his smile by giving him a big one of her own.

"I understand, things are just a little confusing for you after being out for so long. Let me give you a short run down on the dialysis treatment, so that you know what's going to happen during the next few hours."

She went on to explain things, finding a captive audience in the young man with the hazel eyes.

As she finished, she received another smile from him, yet this time it was much bigger, showing off his dimples and lighting up his eyes, "Thanks, I hate it, if I don't know what's going on."

"No problem, I can appreciate that." She agreed, before turning to Bobby, "Now, how about some coffee and breakfast for you? Sorry Dean, nothing for you today. The surgery is scheduled for one o'clock and it wouldn't be good, if you would eat before that."

The older Winchester shrugged his shoulders, "No big deal, I have gone without for much longer."

"I think, I won't have anything until after the boys go into surgery." The salvage yard owner stated, "It doesn't bother me not to eat and it wouldn't be fair to the boys to eat in front of them."

"Hey, it doesn't bother me, if you want to eat" Dean assured and Sam hurried to nod.

"Just indulge an old man and allow him to show a little loyalty here." Bobby smirked, winking at the nurse.

"Alright, but don't complain, if you pass out." Now it was Dean's turn to grin, "I know how easy you 'old' people get low blood sugar and stuff, if you don't eat.'

The older man was ready to hit the other hunter with a come back, but at the last moment decided to give this one to him, after all he almost asked for it with his own comment.

Instead he smiled and said, "Talking about passing out, I haven't told you about the one time, when Dean was about fifteen. The boy's daddy had rented this old decrepit house for the winter. That year it had been colder and snowier than usually and one day, when Dean came home from school, he found a note on the table that his father had picked Sam up from school early and taken him to the local clinic, I think he slipped during recess and broke his wrist. He asked Dean to clean the basement out."

The experienced hunter locked eyes with the star of his story, noting with satisfaction the redness, which was coating the younger man's cheeks. Continuing he said, "So the kid went down stairs and started his task. There was this old dresser that John wanted to repair and bring up for the boys to use. When Dean opened the bottom drawer he found at least five rats in there, one of which jumped at him, ending up in his shirt. As far as I can tell, he must have panicked and run back upstairs, but found that the door had closed and he couldn't open it. Must have gotten stuck or something. Poor kid was in there for about an hour. By the time his daddy came home and let him out, he fainted right into John's arms."

"I did no such thing. The door opened to the outside and when dad pulled on it, I fell against him." Dean tried to defend himself.

"Right, that's why your daddy said, he had to carry you over to the couch and put a cold wash cloth on your head, before you started to come around again." Bobby added with amusement in his voice.

"Hey, but you forgot to tell that it had gotten dark and the light in the basement wasn't working and several of the rats followed Dean." Sam said, taking his brother's side.

"Yak rats…" Jo shuddered, "I think I wouldn't just have fainted. Dying or at least loosing my mind would have been much more like it."

"See, there you have it!" Dean replied with just a little bit of triumph in his voice.

"Alright, so rats are not my favorite creatures either, I just thought it was funny to hear your father tell the story." Bobby gave in.

"Bet it was, dad would have made it much more dramatic than it actually was." The older Winchester was smiling now, remembering the few occasions, when his father would tell them bedtime stories after their mom died.

The nurse could see the sadness in his eyes and put a hand on his arm, "You're alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." He hurried to say, "It's just hard to remember that dad is dead. But I got Sam and that is what really matters." He said, his expression lighting up again.

"Yeah, the kid always knew how to cheer you up, even when he was too little to understand what he was doing." Bobby agreed.

Suddenly a smile appeared on the short haired Winchester's face, as a memory was triggered, "Bobby is right Sammy, you always knew how to make me feel better. I remember my seventh birthday. I wanted this Transformer, Optimus Prime, he was so cool and smart and I cut pictures of him out and left those all over the house, hoping dad would get the hint. Well he did, but on my birthday I got a pair of jeans and a hot wheels car instead and dad explained we just didn't have the money to afford an expensive toy like that."

He paused, looking over to his brother, who clearly didn't have the slightest idea where this story was going.

"I guess I understood, but that didn't mean that I wasn't disappointed and I was really bummed out for the rest of the day. I think I even cried. And then you gave me a crumpled up piece of paper. It was a drawing made with red and black markers, actually more lines and attempts of circles, nothing really identifiable. I never forget what you said, 'De not cry. Sammy drawded Opmus for De.' I'm almost ashamed to say that at first I wanted to tear it apart, but then I saw that big smile on your face and I realized what you were trying to do. So I kept it instead."

Pulling his wallet from his pocket, he took out a paper and unfolded it, before holding it up to his brother.

Looking at the scribbles on it, Sam said, "So I really did this? I thought you just made this up. And you kept the drawing."

"Hey, it's not every day your two year old brother draws such an awesome Optimus Prime for you. I just had to keep it, made me smile a lot since then." Locking eyes with his brother, he added wordlessly '_Every time I want something and can't get it, I look at it and remember what I really have.' _knowing Sam understood, how he felt.

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Dean had decided to go downstairs and visit the hospital gift shop for some reading material. He had been told he had another hour, before he would be prepped for the upcoming surgery. In the meantime Bobby was staying with Sam, keeping the youngest brother company. The older man was able to tell that his boys were starting to get anxious, although both of them were trying really hard to hide it. This was why the older man tried to keep the conversation light and distract the younger Winchester, a task that didn't prove easy, as Sam repeatedly looked over to the door, anxiously waiting for his brother to return.

Sitting with his back to the door the grizzled hunter startled just a little, when he heard the door open, seeing Sam's expression going from a hopeful smile to a disappointed frown in a split second. Looking over his shoulder, he saw it was Nurse Jo, who entered the room with a small tray in her hands.

"Hey, how are you doing? Getting the pre-surgery flutters?" She asked, trying to smile at the two men, but failing ever so slightly.

"Is anything wrong?" Sam questioned, although he didn't know the nurse as well as his older friend, his perceptiveness didn't miss the uneasiness in both her expression and behavior.

"No, nothing, really, I just had some problems with another patient that shook me up a little. Sorry, I wasn't able to keep it from you." She hurried to say.

"Hey, it's alright, you got a tough job, there is no need to try to pretend things are okay, if they are not." Sam looked at her with understanding.

Returning his gaze with one of sadness, she picked up a syringe from the tray and connected it to the IV line.

"What's that for?" Sam watched her slowly pushing the medication in, heat starting to run through his veins as it entered. Even before she was completely finished, he felt his eyes starting to get heavy. Suddenly panicking, he fought to keep them open, struggling to express the betrayal he felt. The thought that something happened to Dean entered his mind just as he was drawn into a dark maelstrom, which pulled him downwards, swirling him around like a puppet and finally leaving him to float in absolute nothingness.

"I'm sorry…" Jo turned to Bobby, who watched her with disbelief, "I had to sedate him, for his own good. I need you to come with me, I'll explain on the way."

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The older Winchester found the gift shop empty except of an older lady behind the counter and a young woman, who was standing in the section with the baby gifts. Making his way over to the magazine rack, he stood there for a while looking over the choices. He was pleasantly surprised by what he found, not having expected much for such a relatively small hospital.

He finally decided on the latest editions of Car & Driver, Hot Rod and Car Collector, as well as Guns & Ammo and Gun Tests for himself. Looking a little further, he picked up copies National Geographic, Time and Popular Science for his brother, knowing geek boy would enjoy them.

Making his way to the check out, he noticed the younger woman finished her selection process also and was walking in the same direction. He paused and let her go first, opening one of the magazines and skimming through it, while he waited.

She put the item, she had chosen down, also setting her purse on the counter. The clerk, a silver haired lady, whose name tag identified her as 'Agnes, Volunteer' picked the soft pink and while terrycloth doll up, searching for a price.

"That would be $10.00 dear!" She said, adding with a smile, "May I ask, who had the baby?"

The other woman, whose head had been down, made eye contact now, looking slightly confused.

Thinking she didn't hear the question, Agnes repeated, "I was wondering, who had the baby, dear?"

"Baby…my baby…Susanna…"

"What a pretty name. I hope she is not still in the hospital?" The volunteer continued to inquire, starting to wonder a little about the slightly strange behavior.

"Hospital…?" The woman reached into her purse, the expression on her face suddenly changing to one of rage, as she screamed "She is dead, dead, dead…you killed her."

She drew a knife out of her purse and turned, stabbing it into the left shoulder of a entirely caught of guard Dean Winchester. Instinct taking over as soon as the blade sank into his muscles, his right hand went up. Not fast enough to prevent her from wounding him once more, but able to push her hand to the side just enough so the knife struck his upper arm instead of his chest, he grabbed her wrist and turned it, causing her to drop the weapon. Kicking it away with one foot, he held on to the woman, who continued to desperately struggle against him. Finally throwing herself against the counter, in the process slamming his wrist against the edge, he let go of her. Yet instead of trying to attack once more or running away, she slid down the side of the counter, coming to a stop with her back leaning against it.

"No, no, no…Susanna…you killed my baby…my baby…my baby…!" She kept crying, her mind obviously not on the right side of reality.

Dean stared at her for a second, still attempting to comprehend, what just had happened. Becoming aware of the pain tearing through his shoulder and arm, he looked at the wounds he was bearing. Seeing the blood flow freely down his arm and torso, dizziness started to hit him, his legs buckling underneath him. He went down hard onto his knees, before falling forward, darkness starting to swallow him up before he hit the ground. From a distance, almost like through a tunnel, he could hear a voice loudly shouting for help, then total silence joined the dark he was already in.

TBC

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_So how did you like this? Just a little twist, couldn't help myself. Let me know. Hugs, Vonnie_


	23. Chapter 23

_Sorry for this being late and a short. I just couldn't write most of this week. I'm not completely happy with how it turned out, but didn't want to mess around with it any longer. Hope it's alright! Oh and Happy Belated Birthday to Mystery Madchen. Hope you had a good one. _

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Still caught between shock and disbelief Bobby Singer followed Nurse Jo out of the room. The two were halfway down the hall before the experienced hunter stopped.

"Hold it right here!" He demanded, "What in hell is going on here?"

Jo turned to face him, her expression suddenly making him wish he wouldn't have asked.

"Dean was injured, but he is going to be alright." She hurried to add, before Bobby could even get the change to flinch.

"What happened?" The Salvage man was amazed how unemotional he reacted to the news, like he really wasn't surprised at all by it. And maybe he wasn't, maybe he just had been waiting for something to happen, without consciously being aware of it.

"He was stabbed, twice – once in his upper chest and once in his arm."

"And you said he is going to be okay?!" It was a mix between a question and a statement.

"He will be, as soon as the doc got him stitched up and they get enough blood into him to replace what he lost. For the stitching part they have to get him into the OR and he won't let that happen until he talked to you." She explained.

"What are we waiting for then?" The old hunter marched toward the elevator, leaving the nurse behind.

Unable to suppress a small smile, she shook her head, scrambling to catch up with him, "Wait, you don't even know, where you need to go."

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Entering the Emergency Department, Jo led them into one of the glassed in cubicles, whose curtains were drawn. Upon entering Bobby stopped as soon as his eyes fell on the figure in the bed. He was shocked by the pale, almost gray appearance of his friend. Less than an hour ago Dean Winchester had been a vibrant young man, excited to be able to give his younger brother life by donated one of his kidneys to him. Now, with his eyes closed and the oxygen cannula under his nose, he looked like death warmed over. The two port IV line, one connected to a bag of saline solution, the other one to a bag that read red pack cells, didn't do anything to improve that picture.

"My God, who did that?" For the first time the grizzled hunter's mind allowed the question to surface.

The nurse only shook her head, her face marked by sadness, "A young woman, who had two miscarriages and only a week ago gave birth to a beautiful full term baby girl, who died within minutes because of a severe defect to her heart."

Bobby had experienced many things in his life and he had been prepared for the worst. He had been ready to hear some deranged killer on a murder rampage or even a supernatural entity had caused Dean's injuries. To find out it had been a young woman, who caught in the depths of grief and depression had lashed out during a moment of insanity and had caught the older Winchester unprepared and most of all unexpected, was almost more than he could take. What an ironic turn of events.

The nurse went over the injured young man and gently stroked her hand over his hair, "Dean, I brought Bobby!"

Lids fluttering open, green eyes looked around in confusion for a moment, before they caught sight of the older man, "Bobby…"

"I'm right here boy." Stepping closer, he took his hand, for the first time noticing the thick, blood soaked bandages around his upper arm and chest.

"Bobby, tell them…" His eyes closed and for a moment it looked like he had fallen asleep again. Then they suddenly shot open, panic written in their depths, "Tell them to do the surgery, please, tell them. Sammy needs my kidney. Please, they need to…"

Tears glimmered in his eyes, as they continued to beg wordlessly for help. His friend looked at the nurse, receiving a hardly noticeable shake of the head from her, which told him everything he needed to know.

Concentrating back on Dean, he said as calmly as possible, "I'll take care of it, I promise."

"Thanks…" Relief lit up the dark eyes, before they clouded over and finally slid closed.

Gently squeezing the now slack hand one more time, he finally let go, his gaze hanging on to the sleeping Winchester for just a moment longer. Waving at Jo to follow him, he finally walked out of the room, waiting in front of it until she joined him.

"Alright, so what's going to happen now?"

"They'll take him into surgery and fix the stab wounds, probably pump a few more pints of blood into him, combined with several Antibiotics." She answered without hesitation.

Although Bobby already knew the answer to the next question, he still asked it, "So what about the transplant?"

Jo's head sank a little, as she thought about it for a moment. Right now she'd rather be in a torture chamber, than standing here in this hallway answering this very question. Still, she knew she owed the man in front of her the truth.

"Its not gonna happen for quite some time. The loss of blood, the amount of blood we are transfusing and the Antibiotics he is going to receive to try and prevent a wound infection is putting a lot of stress on his kidneys. High blood loss and shock can lead to acute renal failure, which we also hope to prevent, but no matter what at the moment Dean needs both his kidneys to work."

The grizzled hunter took of his ball cap and slid his hand through his hair, before readjusting the cap back onto his head, "What is that going to do to Sam?"

"I don't want to tell you anything wrong. I know Dr. Carmichael can explain it a lot better." She replied, relieved she could push this one of to someone else, "I will let him know. Why don 't you go up to the nurses' lounge, he can meet you there and I'll check on Sam in the meantime." Hurrying off with a prayer in her heart, she left the hunter to his own devices.

Only slowly Bobby started to walk back toward the elevator, his heart heavy with fear for both of his surrogate sons. Even the assurance that Dean was going to be alright didn't do much to lessen his worries. If anything happened to Sam because of the delay in the transplant Dean was never going to survive.

Right now the only thing he knew was that he had to talk to the transplant surgeon and find out what he had to say. He was determined to do whatever it would take to get his boys through this – anything and all.

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Stepping into the lounge Bobby found Dr. Carmichael already waiting for him. Obviously he had been checking on Sam and didn't delay coming here to talk to his patient's uncle.

Holding his hand out to offer the older man a cup of coffee, he sat down as soon as it was taken from him. The salvage yard owner joined him, his face expression at least some of the anxiety he was usually so good at hiding.

"Sam is still out from the sedative, otherwise he is doing fine." The skilled physician assured the man sitting opposite from him.

"I'm more worried about what's going to happen when he wakes up. He definitely won't be too happy that he got drugged like this." Bobby confessed, "Usually I would be upset myself, under the circumstances I appreciate it though. Kid would have been way to upset about what happened."

The doctor nodded, they had done what they thought would be best, yet had also known it could very well backfire on them. Collecting his thoughts for what he would have to say next, he took a deep breath.

"I know Nurse Jo told you the reason, why Dean won't be able to donate his kidney to Sam right now. This certainly complicates things." He paused for a second, wiping his hand of his face, "There is always the option to wait and continue to keep Sam on dialysis, but that also increases the possibility for complications that could arise the longer we wait…"

"Use my kidney then!" Bobby looked at the transplant surgeon, leaving no doubt about the seriousness of his statement.

"You're aware of the risks the surgery carries?"

"Yeah, I understand, but I've been taking a lot of risks in my life and a lot of them weren't half as worthy of taking as this one. Let me tell you something doc, those boys need each other. They lost their mother at a very early age and never had a real home. Their dad did the best he could but it wasn't always enough. Now he died and all they got left is each other. I'm an old man, who enjoys being part of their lives, that's more than enough to take a risk. Now can we do this?"

"Sure, we just have to run a couple pre-op tests on you, shouldn't take more than an hour." Dr. Carmichael smiled, he never tried to talk the boy's uncle out of donating his kidney, secretly he was glad the older man was so willing, as this was very likely the best option at this moment, "Why don't you go check on Sam, I'll let Jo know to get a room ready for you and arrange for the testing.

Bobby stood up and turned to walk out; hesitating for a moment, then looked back at the other man, "Thanks doc!" He said, nodding at him, before finally taking his intended direction.

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Two hours later Bobby Singer was being rolled into the operating room. After his talk with Dr. Carmichael, he went to Sam's room, finding the young man still peacefully sleeping under the influence of the drug. Jo, who was changing one of the IV bags, assured him that it wasn't likely he would wake up before the surgery.

Although it went against his principles to do this without Sam's permission, he felt this time he had no other choice. Sam had agreed to the transplant, the only difference was that now it would be his, instead of Dean's kidney he would receive. He guessed, he could deal with any fallout later, after he was sure both the boys would be alright.

The pre-op testing consisted of a few vials of blood being drawn from his arm, an EKG and a chest x-ray. All of this took only a short time. In the end another doctor came into his room, introducing himself as Dr. Walker, Anesthesiologist. He asked, what seemed like a hundred more questions, most of which he already answered, then went over any history of reactions to anesthesia or other medications with him, doing all this while writing busily into his chart.

A short time after he left, one of the nurses came in and put an IV line in his right forearm, explaining that it wouldn't be too much longer until they would get him for the surgery, leaving Bobby with a feeling of relief. He already had enough of all this prodding and poking he had to go through. To many questions about his life style just made his hunter senses come out with all their might, even though he knew there was nothing to worry about this time.

Throughout his waiting time he asked several times for any news about Dean, but every time the answer was that he was still in surgery. In the end it really started to worry the experienced hunter that the surgery would take so long, as he knew how Winchester luck would strike without prior warning.

Now, finally on his way to surgery, he couldn't help but wish he would know how the older Winchester was faring. It was right at that moment that he heard a familiar voice asking the orderlies to stop, right when they were just about to enter the through the automatic doors into the surgical department.

"I just heard from Dr. Finch, she did Dean's surgery." Jo came running up, stopping right in front of the gurney transporting Bobby, "He is doing fine. She says the wound on his shoulder was worse than she thought, that's why it took so long, but she was finally able to get the bleeding stopped and fix it. He didn't wake up yet and I think she will leave him lightly sedated until after the transplant."

"Thanks…" He said, relieved by the news.

"Sure thing couldn't let you get in there worrying more than you had to." She smiled, adding, "Now you better let them take you in wouldn't want to be late…"

Bobby returned the smile, one worry down, at least for right now, one more to go.

TBC

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_So is the transplant going to go alright? And how are Sam and Dean going to react to what Bobby did? I guess you'll have to wait until next time. Now in the meantime, please let me know how you liked it. Hugs, Vonnie_


	24. Chapter 24

_So here is the next chapter, I hope you like it. There isn't any action in it, just some fluff and comfort. Dean might be action a little out of character here, but I just thought it would fit for him this time. So on with the story._

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Usually the post surgical unit wasn't in use on the weekend. In order to save staff, any patients requiring emergency surgery were watched in the ICU and there were only very few of them, on some weekends none. This Sunday though, saw not only the unit open, but also occupied by three patients at the same time. The decision had been made by Dr. Finch, as she didn't want any of the three men under her and Dr. Carmichael's care too far from one another, when they woke up. She had a feeling that it would be less than beneficial and put undue stress on them.

For right now Nurse Jo was taking care of them and another nurse usually working in the ICU was going to take over when here shift ended. This way they could keep them here until the next morning. At that time they would all be moved to their own rooms again.

Dr. Finch just finished to check on her patients and sat down at the desk, typing her findings into the computer. She was so involved in her task, that she was startled by the voice beside her.

"You want some coffee?"

Looking up, she saw her friend Jo holding a cup out to her.

"Thanks, I can use it, it was a long day." She took the cup with a grateful sigh.

"Definitely, never would have thought I live through a day like this. It seems more like working in an Inner City hospital than in Small Town South Dakota. I'm just glad all the procedures went down without a hitch. Last thing the guys here need are more complications." Jo replied.

"I'm really happy the way things look right now. Dean's blood count is up and we can discontinue transfusions after this last one is in. His urine output is good, so it looks like he dodged any renal failure and his vital signs including his temperature are within normal range. When did he get the last dose of the sedative?"

"About an hour ago." Jo answered after looking at the chart.

"Good, so he should be waking up within the next half hour or so." The female doctor leaned back and looked over to the beds, right now separated by the drawn curtains in between them, "Bobby's vitals look good too and his output is also great. If he won't have any complications, I think he will do great. The only one that worries me a little is Sam. His blood pressure is lower than I like it to be and his output isn't as good as it should be."

Jo glanced at the sleeping young man, her face clouding over with worry, "I've noticed and I hope it will improve. Did you talk to Dr. Carmichael about it?"

"Not yet, but I expect him any time. He was just grabbing something to eat in the cafeteria."

A groan from one of the beds made both of them jump up and hurry over to the bed where it came from. Another groan, this one slightly louder, made itself heard and a pair of green eyes fluttered open, looking confused at the two women.

"Welcome back, Dean." Dr. Finch.

"Back…? Was I gone?" The older Winchester tried to lift his arm and groaned again, this time in pain. An expression of panic moved over his face as his memories resurfaced, "Sammy…the transplant…" He started, his breathing picking up until he almost hyperventilated.

"Settle down, Dean or I have to sedate you again." The doctor threatened, waiting until her words sank in and her patient started to get his breathing under control, then she continued, "Sam is alright, you don't have to worry."

"Not worry? Sam needs my kidney. Bobby promised he would take care of it." It was clear he was trying very hard to stay in control, but was close to loosing the fight.

"And he did. Now how are you doing? Any pain?" The physician asked.

"A little." Dean confessed.

Nurse Jo smiled, she didn't expect anything else from him, "So on a scale of one to ten, where does your "little" pain fit in? And try to be honest, please!" She added, exchanging a knowing glance with her friend.

"I guess maybe a three?"

Once again Jo looked at the doc, "Make that about a five or a six and it might just be right."

Dean's eyes became wide, as he couldn't believe he just had been busted, by someone else than Sam nonetheless. Trying to get the conversation away from himself, he said, "So what about Sam? When can we do the transplant?"

Now it was Dr. Finch's turn to laugh, "Alright lets make a deal. You let me give you something for your pain and I promise it won't anything that will knock you out and I will tell you everything you want to know."

She gave the nurse a nod, making her take a syringe from a tray and injecting its contents into the IV line.

The older Winchester just nodded, not wanting to wait any longer he asked, "So, tell me!"

"I told you Bobby took care of it, just like you asked. Well, in his own way anyway. We explained to him, that you wouldn't be able to donate your kidney for at least a few months. So your uncle decided he was going to give Sam his." She explained.

There was a long pause, as a variety of emotions played out on Dean's face. Confusion, anger, sadness, disappointment shook hands as the moved over it, in the end though, to the surprise of the both women, a look of relief and gratefulness settled in.

"Are they both alright?"

"Yes, they are. Your uncle woke up once, but went back to sleep. Sam hasn't yet, but that's nothing to worry about." Dr. Finch answered his question, "Would you like us to put the head of your bed up, so you can see them?"

"They are here?" Dean was surprised, "What are you waiting for?"

Eager to see his brother and friend, he tried to sit up but found that pain and weakness didn't allow him to move the way he wanted.

"Just let us do the work." Nurse Jo advised him, helping him move up, while the doctor pushed the button to elevate the head of the bed.

Looking over at the other beds, Dean smiled at seeing Bobby sleep with his mouth open, for the first time noticing the quite loud snoring coming from the older man. After his initial feelings of resentment, he decided that he couldn't be mad at his surrogate father for doing something that was in the best interest of his baby brother. Sure, he wanted to give Sam his kidney to make up for what he had done but in the end what really mattered was only the fact that his brother was going to live.

Letting his gaze wander over to Sam, he took in the by now way to familiar view of his brother's oversized body lying way too still and pale in the hospital bed, making him appear so much smaller than he actually was. God he loved that kid with every fiber of his being. How he hoped this was the last time he would have to see him this way and his ordeal was finally over.

"Why don't you get some sleep, I wake you, when Sam or your uncle wake up." The female doctor promised.

Searching her face for any signs of deceit and finding none, Dean nodded and snuggled deeper into the pillow as the two women lowered the head of the bed just enough for him to still be comfortable, but not too much to loose sight of the two other men. He closed his eyes facing his brother, so he would be the first thing he would see when he opened them again.

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"I'm not too worried about his blood pressure or output." Dr. Carmichael confessed, "Let's hang another bag of Normal Saline and let it ran simultaneously with the other. Most the time that's all it takes to get the kidney going. But monitor him closely; I don't want him to go into fluid overload."

"Sure, are you flying out tonight yet?" Dr. Finch looked at the transplant surgeon with hope. She certainly was a very capable surgeon, but transplants were way out of her league.

"No, I'm not leaving until Tuesday morning. I don't to monitor things closely for another day." He explained.

"Thanks, you have no idea how relieved I am."

"Don't worry about it." Taking another look at his patient, he saw hazel orbs watching him with some confusion, "Hey, it's about time for you to join us. This is the first day of your life with a working kidney." The specialist greeted him cheerfully.

It was clear that his young patient was not fully awake yet and seemed to have trouble focusing his eyes, as they drifted seemingly shiftless through the room. It took a moment before the settled on Nurse Jo, their expression suddenly darkening.

" drugged me…" Wide eyes stared accusingly at her.

Hurrying to his side, the nurse put her hand on top of his, not really surprised, when he pulled back, "Sam, I'm sorry, we…"

Not letting her finish he continued, "Dean, he… he…d…" Unable to bring himself to speak the word, he turned his head to the side, a lonely tear rolling down the side of his face."

This time putting her hand on his cheek, Jo calmly started to speak, "Sam, look at me." She gently turned his head back her way, "Dean is fine now. He got hurt, but he is right over there, sleeping." Turning his head a little bit more, she stepped out of the way, so the younger Winchester was able to see his brother.

"Dean…!" Not very loud, but very distinct, the call of his name caused the other man to stir and open his eyes, his green locking with blue-greens.

"Sammy…!"

"You alright?"

"Fine!" The older brother answered.

"Liar!" The answer came without delay.

"What happened to you?" Sam questioned, a yawn escaping him.

For the first time Dean remembered that he never really asked what happened. He remembered the young woman and the knife in her hand, the pain when he felt the knife penetrating his skin, sinking into his muscle, but he had no idea why she did it or how badly he got hurt. Giving his brother a helpless shrug, a move he regretted as it made pain stab through his shoulder.

Jo came to his rescue, "You got stabbed twice. Tore some tendons and muscles and nicked one of the larger vessels. That's why you lost so much blood. But with enough rest you will be good as new in a few weeks."

"He really gonna be okay?" Sam's voice was slightly shaky.

"He really is gonna be fine." Dr. Finch promised with a smile, "And it was my suggestion to drug you Sam. I'm sorry, but we didn't know what else to do to keep you calm."

"Just as long a Dean is fine…" The younger man said, letting out a relieved breath, "But who did this to him?"

The nurse looked at her physician friend, receiving a hardly noticeable nod; she started to tell what she knew.

"Claudia Sanders, a young woman, who had two miscarriages in the last three years, finally gave birth to a baby girl last week, only to loose her a few minutes after she was born because of a severe congenital heart defect. She went into severe depression, was almost catatonic for two days. Then she came out of it and seemed to be alright, grieving more normally. She was released three days ago and her husband took her home." She paused, her face revealing the emotions going on in her head, "For some reason she came back, buying this doll in the gift shop and then had a psychotic breakdown. From her rambling, the police think she was trying to punish her obstetrician for her baby's death. Whatever the lady in the gift shop said must have set her off and stab Dean."

Both men had listened without interrupting her. Being used to dealing with supernatural entities, it seemed almost unbelievable for something like this to happen. Yet there was no doubt that it did happen. Sam shivered at the thought that Dean could have easily been killed. How ironic would it be, if the his brother, who had been trained as a hunter since he'd been four years old, would've been killed by some young woman with a psychotic episode.

Yawning again, the younger Winchester looked back at his brother, all of a sudden remembering what the doctor told him right after he woke up. Questioning turning towards the transplant surgeon, who was still standing at the end of the bed.

"You said I have a new kidney, but how…? Dean got hurt…"

Before Dr. Carmichael could answer, a voice came from the other side of his bed, "It was my kidney you got."

Turning his head, the young hunter looked at his fatherly friend, his eyes widened in surprise over the news.

TBC

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_So, what you guys think? Let me know again. Hugs, Vonnie_


	25. Chapter 25

_Finally the next part is up. Hope you like it and thanks again for your support!_

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For a moment Sam Winchester had no idea, what to think. There were so many things happening all at once, it was difficult to take them all in. He remembered the horror he felt, when he realized Nurse Jo drugged him. It had been an emotion that took over for only a split second, before the fast acting drug dragged him under.

Waking up and seeing the nurse standing close by, the same feeling bubbled up within him. He knew without a doubt something happened to his brother and that the something had to be so horrific that the only solution had been to sedate him. Only when he saw Dean in the bed beside him, not only alive but also awake, when he heard his voice and found out what really went on, was he able to relax, although not completely, as he still was worried about the other man's injuries.

Discovering that he not only received a new kidney, but that the organ was donated by Bobby, left him with something that at this moment he couldn't even come close to describe, even if his life would dependent on it. He was completely overwhelmed by it, unable to pull even one thought together and hold on to it. As he stared at the older hunter in the other bed, the man, who long ago had become family to him, he more automatically, than actually wanted squeezed out the words, he felt he was supposed to say, "Thanks, I really appreciate it!"

Closing his eyes, he dropped his head to the side to hide the tear rolling from it. He had no doubt the words didn't mean anything, might even be hurtful and yet whatever it was he had inside him, didn't want to be expressed right now. Unable to face his family or new friends, he took the cowards way out and allowed the still looming exhaustion to guide him into a nothingness, where no emotions or conflicts mattered.

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Having watched Sam's reaction and how he went back to sleep without another word with a certain amount of astonishment, Dean couldn't hold back any longer.

"Did he just say what I thought he said?" His eyes wandered from Bobby to Jo and the physicians, looking for an answer. In pain and tired himself, he wasn't sure what exactly was going on, except that this wasn't his Sammy talking. His Sammy wouldn't just say 'thanks' and 'I appreciate it' for getting another chance.

"Don't worry 'bout it, kid's just been through too much. I understood what he was trying to say, even if it didn't come out the right way."

Bobby grumbled, not really sure what to think, but one thing he knew for sure and that was that today's events had thrown him for a loop and he was in better health than Sam or even Dean. Right now he just had to keep the older Winchester calm and he knew this was the best way to do it.

"You're sure?" Dean inquired, a big yawn following the question.

"Sure I'm sure, ya idjit!" The salvage yard owner grumbled, "Now go to sleep, so I can too."

Dean smiled; it was good to know that at least Bobby came through the surgery without any big problems. The older man was probably right; he just would have to make sure he was there, when little brother woke up again. With that thought on his mind he went to sleep, knowing that the people that meant the most to him were in good hands with the competent and caring professionals surrounding them.

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After checking on their patients early the next morning both Dr. Finch and Dr. Carmichael were more than just happy with the progress. Dean spent most of the night asleep and was able to get up to the bathroom with the help of one of the nurses and a second one on stand-by. He clearly put on a "suck-it-up" Winchester attitude and was exhausted after the excursion, but even though there was no doubt he was starting to get better.

Bobby also had been up and done amazingly well, showing that the hunter was in no way less stubborn and determined than either of his boys. The reason for his determination was mainly that he needed to take care of those two idjits, before they got into any further trouble.

And the transplant specialist was very pleased with Sam's progress also. His output picked up over night and was now as close to normal as it could get and his blood pressure, even though it remained low, improved too. But the best indication was the results of the latest lab tests, as for the first time in weeks they showed a kidney function that was almost within normal limits.

The news had not only Dean and Bobby out of their mind excited, but also made Dr. Finch dial Nurse Jo's home number at seven in the morning. After a sleepy mumble, the nurse wasn't scheduled to work today and a silence while listening to the physician, there was a joyful scream on the other end, followed by a 'have you gone completely nuts now' from the background, before the doc received a thanks and the assurance she would be in later in the day.

Now the biggest problem was to find a room big enough to accommodate all three men together, as the female doctor was sure neither of them would get any rest, if they would be separated, as the two older ones would be out of bed constantly to check on Sam and one another and the youngest would worry incessantly about Dean and Bobby. There had to be a solution for this problem.

Searching her memory Dr. Finch looked out of the window, not really seeing the bright sunshine illuminating a clear blue sky. The solution popped into her head without warning and the more she thought about it the more she liked it. Picking up the phone, she punched tree numbers, waiting until the other end was picked up and then said, "I'll be up in a few minutes to talk to you."

Without another word, she hurried out, hoping that she could make her idea work.

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Dean looked around the room he was supposed to call home for at least the next few days. It was a lot bigger than the usually hospital rooms. Each of the four walls was painted different; the one with the two windows was bright pink, while the one opposite from it with the entrance door was sky blue. The two side ones were purple and red. The curtains on the windows were white with a combination of all the colors splashed on them. Colorful pictures drawn by children decorated the walls and the table and chairs looked child-sized. It was obvious to him that this had to be part of the pediatric ward.

"Awesome, what's next, a baby bed?" He smirked.

"Son, I have a feeling if it wouldn't be for this room, we would not be together." Bobby educated him with a smile, looking over at the other bed, where the youngest Winchester was sleeping or rather pretending to sleep.

"You're right, I'm glad we are all together." Dean agreed.

Looking over to his brother, his expression turned worried. He just wished things could go back to normal. But when he was honest with himself, their normal had never been really normal. For any one else it would be completely and utterly crazy. Still, it was all he knew and he couldn't help but long for it. And there had to be a way to get there, but it would never happen unless he got Sam to start talking.

"They Sammy, open your eyes!" He challenged the other man, "I know you're awake, you might as well give up pretending."

Green-blue eyes opened and stared at him with something written within them he wasn't completely able to identify, before Sam turned his head away, gazing out of the window instead.

"Look Sam, you can't continue to do this, at some time you'll have to talk to us, might as well get it over with. What's going on?"

The silence from the younger brother continued and for a while it seemed that Dean didn't accomplish anything. Several minutes went by, when Sam took in a deep breath, before letting it out with a deep sigh. With his head still turned away, his eyes still staring out of the window, the youngest Winchester hesitantly started to talk.

"It's just that everyone around me either dies or has to sacrifice everything."

"What do you mean by having to sacrifice everything?" Dean looked at his brother with questioning eyes.

"You know…first you, now Bobby…!" He responded, as he turned his head to face the other men, tears shining in his eyes and his lips quivering in a desperate attempt to hold back a sob.

"Darn it kid!" Bobby said in a tone sharper than he'd intended. Seeing Sam jolt back and bite his lower lip, he continued in a softer voice, "Sorry, I didn't mean it that way. Look, I didn't sacrifice anything, I…"

"But you did!" Sam interrupted, "You gave me your kidney because you had no choice. I'm gonna loose you and Dean and everyone. I should be dead so you can finally live in peace…"

With the last sentence, his voice suddenly started to sound empty, without emotions, something that scared the two elder men more than if he'd broken down crying. Slowly getting out of his bed, Bobby made his way over to Sam, knowing Dean wouldn't be far behind. Although worried about the older Winchester, he knew nothing would hold him back now and he had no intention to even try, as Sam needed his big brother more than anything right now.

At this moment both men were glad their IV bags were on rolling poles, as it gave them the freedom now to get to their youngest without having to call for help. As the seasoned hunter reached his destination, he sat, leaning slightly over and holding on to Sam's cheek to prevent the younger man from turning away from him.

"Son, I didn't have to do anything, there was always a choice. It was my decision and I made it because I wanted to."

There was a pregnant pause that laid heavy in the room, before the younger man let out a sob, "You and Dean are the only family I have left!" Tears now started to roll freely from his expressive eyes.

For once Bobby couldn't hold back either, didn't even try, as the words out of the youngest Winchesters mouth were much more he'd ever expected. To him these boys meant as much and maybe more than family, yet they had a father, had one another and he didn't expect them to feel the same way about him.

"Sam…" He allowed his calloused hand to gently stroke up and down the younger man's cheek. Looking for the right words and not quite able to find them, he simply said, "Thanks…"

Hazels wide with disbelief stared at him, "W…Why? Why would you thank me?"

Using the back of his hand to wipe a tear away, the hunter cleared his throat, "Because you just made an old fool very happy, you called me family!"

A hand came down on his shoulder, as Dean let himself down into the chair beside him, "Because that's what you've always been…to both of us!"

Sam only nodded in agreement, not trusting his voice. Still reeling from all the emotions flowing through him, he wanted to rejoice, to show his thanks to his surrogate father and Dean and enjoy his new found life with them, yet the fear of causing them harm, of loosing them because they continued to give everything for him, paralyzed him. There was something wrong with him and eventual they would see it and leave him, either they would see his true nature or they would get killed because of him. He was tainted somehow, cursed…

"No, you are not…"

Sam looked up in shock. The words coming from his brother made him realize he had spoken the last sentence out loud.

"Sammy, you are not tainted or cursed." Dean repeated.

"But what about my visions and the telekinesis, when we were at Max' place?" The younger man questioned, his eyes filled with despair.

"So what, you're not the only person in the world that can do these things." Thinking for a moment, the older brother added, "Do they freak me out? Sure they do! But only because you're my little brother and I can't stand to see you suffer. I'm supposed to protect you, but I have no power to protect you from this."

"But that's the problem, you always want to protect me, you both do and in the process I might loose you. Mom died, Jess died, Dad died and so did Caleb and Pastor Jim and it was all because me." More tears rolled down his face.

"Dammit Sammy, you have to finally let it go, it wasn't your fault. Demons are pure evil, they don't care about anyone. That yellow eyed bastard killed them because it served his purpose. By letting him make you feel guilty, you are doing exactly what he wants."

"What if he kills you or Bobby? I couldn't stand loosing you, I rather die first." Sam's anguish pierced through his brother like a knife.

Dean wished he had two usable arms, yet having only one, he wrapped it around his brother's neck, pulling him as close as possible as he leaned forward.

"I'm not going anywhere kiddo, I promise!" He assured in his most confident voice, as he slowly let the kid back down onto the pillow.

"Me neither!" Bobby added.

"But what…"

"No but or what about it. You're stuck with us!" Dean smiled, slowly sitting down again, while holding his arm against his side, "We are family and there is no way to get rid of us."

"You're sure?" Sam's voice trembled, as he tried to hold on to the promise, but was still too afraid to allow it to happen.

"Absolutely and I know I can say this for both of us!" Dean glanced at Bobby for just a second before his eyes went back to his brother.

The fear hadn't left, but there was hope starting to grow in within him. Maybe with time he could allow himself to…If he just could make sure nothing would happen to his family.

As if reading his thoughts, Dean started, "I know you are scared and you're afraid to get hurt again, but that's what we're here for. It's easier, if we do it together."

"And you two will always have a home with me, you know that!" The salvage yard owner added his own assurance.

"Thanks Bobby, for everything, especially for giving me a part of yourself!" This time there was no doubt that the thanks came from within Sam's heart.

"That's what family is for, kid!" The older man replied, thankful their Sam was finally coming through again.

"Right!" Dean agreed, then added, "You me and this old fool are it now."

"Who are you calling an old fool?"

"You, that's what you called yourself!" Dean replied with a smirk.

"I can call myself whatever I want." Bobby grumbled.

"See, if you say you're one, than it has to be true, which means I have even more reason to call you one."

"Uh, just go on like this and I'm gonna put you over my knee and spank you." Looking at the expression on Dean's face, he added, "And don't think I'm too old to do it!"

"You wanna bet old man?" Dean grinned.

"Don't have to, I'll just show you."

"Go ahead…"

A soft snoring from the bed made both man look up and a smile appear on their faces. Sam was fast asleep again, but this time there was a content smile on his face. Exchanging a glance, both of them went back to their own beds, exhausted, but satisfied for having been able to give the youngest of their little family a little bit of peace. They would deal with tomorrow, when tomorrow came. For right now today was more than enough for either of them.

TBC

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_So there is some solution for our guys, but that doesn't mean all problems are solved yet. There is also the question, how Sam's future will look, now that he has a transplant kidney. So I hope you will let me know what you think and I will let you know how it goes on. Hugs, Vonnie_


	26. Chapter 26

_Okay, so I really apologize to everyone. I didn't write a word until a few days ago. I knew what I wanted to write, but just couldn't concentrate, too much going on in my mind. Finally got it together and it flowed, but then I realized it wasn't what I wanted to write. So that will have to wait until the next chapter. I hope you will like this one anyway. As I said, my fingers didn't type what my brain told them to._

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The next few days went by faster than any of the three men would ever have imagined. Both Dean and Bobby recovered nicely and were released four days later. Although neither of them said it out loud, they secretly expected the 'Winchester Curse' to strike at any time and hit the most likely one of them – their youngest. To their surprise though, things went fairly smooth.

Sam's new kidney worked at 'full power' within a few days, making it unnecessary for him to undergo any further dialysis treatments. And after undergoing another scan and being weaned of IV pain meds the news got even better, as the muscle injuries to his back were healing nicely and his pain was controllable with oral pain meds now. Even the tingling in his legs had decreased further and so the day finally came on which the young man was allowed out of bed.

It was a slow working up to the goal, as the first time Sam was only allowed to sit at the side of the bed and put his feet on the floor. Initially disappointed, he changed his mind fast, as the unused upright position caused his head to spin. Taking deep breaths under the watchful eyes of Dr. Finch and Dean, the room finally settled. Still he was more than glad, when he was back with his legs up and his back against the pillows.

The second time went better, as the room shifted but didn't really spin and he was able to sit up for almost ten minutes without passing out. The third time brought the moment, when he actually got to stand up. Putting weight on his legs made them feel like rubber and in combination with all of his blood rushing into the tips of his toes, made them buckle like they didn't just feel that way, but were in fact made of it. His eyes started to roll back and his head fell forwards, landing on Dean's shoulder, as he fell into his brother's waiting arms.

Not surprised, Dr. Finch and a male nurse, which stood close by, helped Dean catch his brother, as the older Winchester was really not able to take his brother's weight and put the young man back to bed. It took only a second after his head hit the pillow, when the blue-green eyes fluttered open and the pale skin color of the kid's face changed to an embarrassed pink. Before he was able to utter a word though, Dr. Finch took over.

"I'm surprised you didn't pass out when you sat up the first time. After all those weeks in bed your body has no choice but to react this way." She gave her patient an encouraging smile, "I would say we wait till tomorrow to try again, let you rest today."

"No!" Although still a little shaky, there was no mistaking the determination in the young man's voice, "I'm ready to try again in a little while."

The physician smiled and gave Dean a wink, before turning back to Sam, "I guess we give you an hour to rest. I'll be back then."

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The youngest Winchester was ready and more eager than ever to get out of bed, when Dr. Finch and the male nurse returned an hour later. This time he made it to his feet without passing out. Still, he had to heavily lean on the nurse to keep upright. Determined not to give up, he took a step forward, finding that his legs seemed to have difficulty following his instructions, as they seemed determined not to leave the safety of the floor. Also, what was supposed to be a step, turned into something that was less than a baby step.

Perspiration running down the side of his face and his ears closed to the attempts of both the doc and the nurse to get him to turn back, Sam shuffled his way over to the chair. By the time he arrived he felt like he ran a marathon. Reaching his arm to hold on to the arm rest furthest from him, he swiveled around, feeling the hands of the nurse, but even more the security of his brother's watchful eyes, on him and fell into the seat, unable to hold back a soft moan.

Alarmed Dean was instantly by his side, waiting until the younger man's breathing evened out.

"You alright?" He asked the concern obvious in his voice.

"Yeah…" Sam looked over to the bed, "Can't belief that walking a couple of yards can make feel so good and so bad at the same time."

Giving his brother a once over, Dean took in his sweat soaked shirt and the hair hanging in wet curls into his face. He was about to comment that the shuffling Sam exhibited was not worthy of being called walking, when he noticed the satisfied smile curling up his little brothers lips and the thrilled expression beaming from his eyes.

"Yeah, you did great Sammy!" He replied instead, his own lips curling up into a large smile. He supposed, it had to feel like a victory after all those weeks in bed. Still, he couldn't help adding, "Hey, I guess you should ask for a sponge bath, when you're back in bed."

Sam rolled his eyes, but smirked, "Yeah well, I suppose I could ask Trish, I know she is working today!" Knowing his brother had taking a liking to the pretty brunette and was even considering asking her out for dinner.

Receiving a "don't mess with me" look from his older sibling, he grinned even more.

"I think I'm ready to get back now." He looked up at the man in front of him.

The way back somehow felt even longer and by the time Sam's head was hitting the pillow, his eyes were drooping. Even the increased pain in his back and around the surgical site couldn't keep him from dozing off without another word, yet the smile was still playing around his lips as he relaxed into sleep.

Bobby and Dean exchanged a look. Watching the youngest Winchester struggle through his first steps, they'd expected him to react with frustration. The genuine expression of victory was something that not only surprised them, but also filled them with relief and even more so joy, as it was a sign that Sammy was really ready to fight his way back.

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There were certainly not only victories, but also a few set backs in Sam's immediate future, but the young man took all of them on with more strength than anyone, except maybe Bobby and Dean would have believed him capable of. He didn't complain, when his temperature rose and he was diagnosed with a urinary tract infection, causing him to be on another IV antibiotic, as Dr. Finch didn't want to take any risks.

The day he was able to make it all the way to the bathroom and finally get rid of the Foley Catheter was celebrated as another victory, not just by him, but also by his brother and uncle. Yet the next morning Sam was unable to move without excruciating pain in his back. The scan Dr. Finch immediately ordered showed that some of the swelling around his spine had returned, obviously the not quite healed muscle injury had been exacerbated by the unusual amount of movement and now the swelling was causing nerve depression.

Although the pain was obvious, Sam didn't allow himself to be depressed over it, instead he kept his spirits up and even was able to cheer Dean up, who really seemed to take his blow hard. Although some of this could have been due to the pain medication Dr. Finch immediately ordered. Although used to narcotics after the past few weeks of being given them freely, the younger brother reacted strangely to this one. Not wanting to give him morphine, as there was a risk it could impair the new kidney, she ordered oxycodone, which he didn't have before.

As she walked in the room a couple hours later, she stopped to observe the scene unfolding in front of her. Both Dean and Bobby were seated on one side of Sam's bed, while Nurse Trish stood on the other side checking his blood pressure and other vital signs. Her patient wore a crooked grin on his face that seemed somewhat odd on him and his eyes were following the young woman's every move.

When she unwrapped the cuff from his arm, he winked at her, "You know, Dean, that's my brother here…" He chuckled and pointed at the other man, "So Dean, he reaaally likes you. He actually wants to take you out for dinner." Chuckling again, he looked over at Dean, who had turned slightly pink. Continuing, he added, "You know, that means a looot, he usually just gets the chicks he wants to lay drunk."

"Sam, what the hell….!" By now the older Winchester was bright red and had jumped out of his chair, "I. I'm sorry for my brother, he usually isn't…, well…, damn it Sammy, what gotten into you."

Giving him a look of complete innocence, the younger man begged, "But it's true, you have to believe me. He really, really, really likes you a lot. Please, please, please believe me!!!"

Looking into her patient's eyes, the experienced nurse noticed their glassed over appearance and the abnormal dilation of the pupils, leaving her without a doubt that it was the drugs speaking through her otherwise shy patient. Unable to resist his puppy dog look, she gave him her biggest smile.

"I believe you!"

"But…" Before Dean could say anymore, the nurse interrupted him by winking at him with a grin.

"You really should get some sleep Sam." She said.

"But I'm not tired!" The youngest Winchester protested.

"Why, you're still in pain?" she asked.

"Nooo, I feel great. But you're sooo pretty and you know, I just want to look at you." He smiled widely.

At this point Dr. Finch stepped up to the bed, "Hey there Sam."

"Oh hi Dr. Finch, I just told Trish I want to look at her. I know Dean wants to look at her too, you think he is going to be mad at me that I like her too?" He sounded like a five year old, who just took his brother's favorite toy.

Suddenly there were tears pooling in his eyes and Dean, who usually was so in tune with his brother, suddenly felt awful for not realizing earlier what was going on.

"Dammit, I should have known…" He scolded himself, "I'm sorry Sammy."

"No, no, don't be sorry, I'm sorry, you like her so much. I'm sorry for liking her too. Please don't be mad at me."

Knowing that he wouldn't get anywhere with a loopy Sammy, Dean decided on a different approach. Wrapping his arm around his little brother and holding him just like he had done when Sammy was still a toddler, he said, "Hey, hey, it's alright, I never could be mad at you. You know I love ya, so don't worry about it."

"You really not mad at me?"

"No buddy, I'm not." Dean assured him.

"Is dad mad at me?" Suddenly the younger man regressed way into the past, "Does he still not want me to come back?"

"No Sammy, dad loves you, he was never really mad at you, just stubborn and scared." Now it was Dean's turn to have tears in his eyes.

"Really, but he never came to see me, never even called me." A sob escaped the younger man.

"He checked on you a lot, just never let you see him."

"But why isn't he here now?" The sadness in the younger man's eyes almost broke Dean's heart, "I want to tell him, I love him."

"He knows, Sammy, he knows." He assured him.

"Oh God, Dean, he is dead, isn't he, dad is dead and I never got to tell him I love him. He is never coming back and the last thing I did was argue with him." Sobs started to shake the young man, combined with occasional whimpers of pain, making it clear that the uncontrollable shaking of his body cost him dearly.

Still burying his face into his brother's shoulder, Sam let out a moan, before pleading in a small voice, "Daddy, please, daddy, I love you…"

"Shshsh…, it's alright Sammy!" Dean's attempts to sooth him only caused the young man to sob harder.

Unexpectedly there was a hand on his shoulder, making the firstborn brother turn slightly. It was Bobby, who was standing behind him.

"Let me try!" He said in a gently voice.

Dean let go of his brother and moved to the side, the pained look from Sam's eyes almost breaking him in the process. Immediately Bobby sat down on the bed, his arms embracing the young man, now regressed by drugs to an age somewhere in the past. Holding him silently for just a moment, he finally said, "You have to relax Sammy."

"Daddy!?" The voice was unsure, yet hopeful.

"I'm right here son! I won't leave you.

"Daddy, I'm sorry, I love you."

"I know son, I love you too." The salvage yard owner had trouble keeping his voice steady at sadness in the kid's voice.

"Daddy, sorry I'm not Dean." Sam's arms wrapped around the older man hugging him as hard as he could with the limited strength he had available.

'Damn you John Winchester!' Bobby thought, saying out loud, "I never would want you to be Dean. Sammy, I love you just the way you are."

"Really?"

"Absolutely!" Bobby put every bit of determination into his voice to make sure the younger man would believe him.

"I do too." Suddenly the voice sounded softer, smaller than before, but also more content.

"You okay now?" The grizzled hunter still held on to the younger man. It never seized to amaze him, how much those boys loved there father, but he knew that as much as a bastard as John had been at times, he loved his sons more than life himself.

An unsuppressed yawn came from Sam now, yet still he insisted, "Not tired, daddy!"

"Guess you have to go to sleep without being tired then!" Bobby smiled, bedding the young man down into the pillow.

"Do I have toooo?" Sam slurred, his eyes drooping and closing, "Not sleepy…" He mumbled, already lying in the arms of Morpheus, dragging him down into his empire of dreams.

For a long while there was silence in the room, only broken, when Dean finally found his voice.

"Thanks Bobby!"

"Hey, that's what family is for!" The older man responded.

"This shouldn't have happened; I should have seen it right away. I know Sammy!" The older brother still couldn't rid himself of the guilt feeling.

"Hey, it's alright, you didn't expect this to happen!"

"So what exactly did happen here?" Dr. Finch looked at her nurse then turned to the two men in front of her. She knew that her patient suffered from a reaction to the new drug, this much she was sure of, yet she never seen anything quite like it.

"I'm used to see patients get loopy from certain drugs, even regress, yet Sam seemed all over the place. Judging by his reactions, he seemed to go from the recent past to preschool age and anywhere in between at completely random intervals."

For the first time Dean laughed, "Yeah well, leave it to Sam, he will always give you something to think about. Who knows what's going on in that big head of his? Kid reacted strange to certain drugs in the past, but it never seemed to have a pattern. Give him something the first time and he is completely out of it, while the second time you wouldn't even know he'd taken anything or the other way around. It's just a guessing game with him."

The physician smiled at the way Dean talked about his brother, hearing very plainly the concern and love that spoke through it. Although she had gotten used to it by now, she never seized to marvel at the relationship the brothers seemed to share. In today's world, where families fell apart on a daily basis and where brother turned against brother with a frequency that was almost terrifying, it was something very rare and she felt privileged to get a glimpse of it.

Taking a breath, she finally spoke up, "I think the best thing to do is give him a steroid injection. That should help take the swelling down. In the meantime let's discontinue the oxycodone and change him to low dose of Dilaudid. Hopefully we can take him of it in a day or two, when the steroid kicks in."

"Thanks doc, I just hope Sam is not going to have those problems with his back forever. He has always been prone to back pain. Must have something to do with being a Sasquatch."

Dr. Finch couldn't help but laugh at that, "You actually have a point there. Just because Sam is taller than most other people doesn't mean he has more vertebrae in his spine, it just means that each has to be bigger and there are still only the same amount of disks in between them. So overall his spine is a lot weaker, that's why it is so important for him to exercise to keep those muscles strong enough to support the alignment of the vertebrae. Obviously he has been doing that, but now the muscles are damaged and the long time of being immobile didn't help either."

She took a break to see how Dean and Bobby were taking her explanation. Satisfied with their slightly concerned, but clearly taking the information without panic, she decided it would be alright to continue.

"I don't think he will have some problems for quite some time, as those muscle tears in areas of high movement have a tendency to take a long time to heal. Yet I don't think he will have chronic problems. He just has to take it easy and go through physical therapy. I'll have the orthopedic surgeon take a look at him and see if he recommends a brace for him."

Dean visibly relaxed after listening to the explanation and a look at Bobby told him he older man felt the same way. Yet there was another question that was lying heavily on his mind and while they were at explanations, he decided he might as well ask that one too.

"Good, but how much is the transplant going to change Sam's live?"

The female doctor was not surprised by the question, had actually wondered, why neither of them had asked it earlier, "I'm not the right person to answer that for you, but I can tell you that much, he will have to make a few changes, but it's nothing he can't live with. On the other hand Dr. Carmichael decided to make a stop on his way to Los Angeles next weekend, so he can check on Sam and answer every one of your questions. I hope this is alright, otherwise I'm going to have him fax me some info?"

"I guess that's okay. I don't really care what changes we have to make, as long as it keeps Sam healthy, we gonna do it."

"Even if he has to tie him up and force him…" Bobby added with a smirk.

TBC

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_So I hope you liked it, even though this wasn't what I originally planned for this chapter. Please let me know. Hugs, Vonnie_


	27. Chapter 27

_I don't know what is happening; this story has taken on a life of its own. Every time I start to write I find it isn't turning out the way I wanted it to. Well, at least I got something started on the drug treatment Sam has to go through from now on, something I know several people have anticipated. Enough of the rambling, though and on to the story.__ Warning for potty mouth Dean._

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Over the next two days Bobby and Dean watched their youngest family member's determination with disbelief and admiration. After the incident with the drug reaction Sam had insisted that all IV narcotics would be stopped immediately. Dr. Finch had initially tried to convince him otherwise assuring him that he was no longer been given the offending agent, but had finally relented, when her young patient had threatened to rip his IV line out and a look she had received from his older brother had convinced her, nothing would stop him from carrying his threat out. Only after a long talk had Sam given in to taking an antispasmolitic to relax his back muscles and thus help with the pain. He still had refused though to take it scheduled and insisted he was perfectly capable of judging his bodies need for any kind of pharmalogical assist.

Throughout the conversation Dean had sat by the bed, uttering no word, but wearing a big smirk on his face. Sam being opinionated and obstinate was truly a sign of recovery and there was nothing he liked to see more than that.

It became clear fairly fast that the younger Winchester didn't remember a whole lot, if anything of what happened while he was under the influence of the narcotic. The two older men were grateful for it, as they knew any memory would cause Sam unjust embarrassment. Though silently Bobby was hoping that maybe his acting as John might somehow have gone into the younger man's subconscious and in the future might surface as a perceived reality that would comfort him. The kid carried too much of a load around already, thinking his father didn't love him and died believing Sam felt the same was something he truly didn't need on his mind.

Dean on the other hand couldn't shake Sam's loopy confession that he 'liked' Nurse Trish also, but was afraid it would make him, Dean, mad. Even though this never happened before, as the brothers had a very different taste in women, it didn't seem to fit his little brother's 'genetic make up' to just back down instead of fighting. Dean always felt the kid could be incredibly selfish, when it came to something he wanted, like the last of the 'Lucky Charms' cereal, when they were younger.

The thought suddenly popped into his mind that maybe this wasn't the first time Sam backed down and that in reality, he maybe wasn't as selfish as he let on. Dean actually never minded to forgo something, if it meant Sam would have what he wanted or needed, after all, it was his job as a big brother to look out for the younger one. Maybe all this 'selfishness' had been an act, put on by his little brother to make him feel like he was truly taking care of him.

Dean shook his head, as he glanced over to his once again sleeping baby brother. Not even Sammy could be smart enough to pull this one off. Just thinking about it gave him a headache. Still, there was something he needed to do. Standing up and stretching as well as his immobilized arm allowed it, he walked out, mumbling some explanation about having to take a walk to Bobby, who was left behind in utter surprise by the abrupt departure of the older Winchester.

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It wasn't easy to find the woman he was looking for, as it turned out the nurse was busy in the med room, double checking medications and IV solutions that arrived from the pharmacy, to make sure none of her patients would receive either a wrong medication or a wrong dosage. Although the fault many times would lie with the ordering doc or the dispensing pharmacist, in the end it was the nurse, who would give the medication to the patient and at that would be held accountable for any mistakes made. On the other hand, being the ones working closely with the actual recipient, also made most nurses feel a natural responsibility for their safety and well-being that had nothing to do with any laws.

Dean waited for almost thirty minutes in the hallway by the nurse's station, trying to look casual and knowing very well, he was failing miserably. When the nurse finally appeared, he suddenly felt an incomprehensible desire to be in a completely different place. Incomprehensible because it was certainly not in his nature to run from a woman he laid his eyes on, unless she turned out to be of demonic or any other supernatural nature.

Taking a deep breath, he finally approached her, feeling like he was making a complete fool of himself the moment he opened his mouth. "Ahem, I…, I mean…" He started, stopping, when she gave him a questioning look.

He blushed slightly, knowing very well, he was anything but smooth right now.

"Can we talk?" He pushed out at last, the words almost stumbling over one another.

Giving him a bright smile, she replied, "Sure, I'm on break for the next fifteen minutes. Why don't we use the nurses lounge, no one should be in there right now."

The older Winchester was glad, when she walked ahead of him, giving him a little more time to pull himself together. After reaching their destination, he sat down beside her, but stood up again immediately and started to pace.

"Are you going to talk or just continue to use my time to wear out the carpet?"

The amused question finally stopped him in his tracks, right front of her. Still not sure what exactly to say, he decided to just start.

"About Sam…"

"What about him?"

"Well, you know, what he said yesterday, when…" Dean paused.

"You mean, what he said, while he was high on the oxy?" She still smiled.

"Yeah, yeah, exactly."

"You mean the thing about you wanting to ask me out, because you like me?" Now her eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Yeah, that and…" He gave her a look, hoping she would once again save him by continuing his sentence.

"…and that he likes me too."

"Right." Dean pulled in a deep breath; at last he said it, although he really didn't.

"What about it?" The smirk on her face was even wider, showing how much she seemed to enjoy this..

Dean's head sank and he turned away from her. Damn women and their games. Alright, guess he would have to play along. Sam so owed him for this. Damn! Only problem was, he could never know about it.

Turning back and sitting down in the chair across from her, he said, "Look, Sam, he is my baby brother and he has been through a lot lately. So would you please just ignore me and go out with him? I mean, when he is out of this place that is."

"Oh…" The smirk disappeared and was replaced by something like anger, "Is that what you guys do? Decide who gets the girl? What about me? Don't I get asked?"

There was honest upset in the older Winchester's bright green eyes, when he replied, "No absolutely not, this is not anything we do. Really, you have to belief me. It's just this has never happened and Sammy never likes the same girls I do and so it has never been an issue to decide, which of us would…" He stopped, feeling like he was putting his foot in his mouth again. Hurrying up, he added, "It's all up to you. Please, you have to belief me. But…" His voice went down to a low whisper, "…it still would be nice, if you would let Sammy down easy, if you don't like him either."

There was a moment of silence, before the young nurse reached her hand out for his. Moisture was sparkling in her eyes now, as she looked at him.

"I never said I don't like either one of you. I'm sorry I got so upset, but I had some bad experiences in the past."

"I'm sorry about that, honestly. Just forget about what I said."

"No, it's alright. Look Dean, you and your brother, you are both great guys, I just don't have any…, well let's just say romantic feeling for either one of you." She smiled again, "But that doesn't mean, the two of you can't take me out for dinner some time. No strings attached."

Not really the answer he had hoped for, the young hunter was for glad for her honesty, though and maybe it would be for the best. He just hoped his little brother hadn't started to feel more deeply for the young nurse. After loosing Jess less than a year ago, this would only contribute to hurting him even more. Yet, there was nothing he could do; after all, he couldn't make Trish fall in love with Sam.

Out loud he said, "I would love that and I'm sure so would Sam."

Almost as if reading his mind, the nurse added, "Don't worry about your brother. It's not unusual for patients to get infatuated with their nurses, docs or therapists. I'm sure it's nothing more than that. Just give him some time to become more independent and you'll see it's going to work itself out just fine." Checking her watch she said, "Sorry, my break is over, I have to check on Sam now. He is due for his next dose of antibiotics."

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Sunday had dawned with sunshine but turned into a rainstorm by ten. To Sam it didn't make a bit of difference though, as his mind was set on the conversation with Dr. Carmichael. Once again he had shown everyone his stubborn side, including Nurse Jo, who had decided to be there on his side for support.

Although everyone told him he would be much more comfortable staying in bed, the young man had insisted on not only taking a real shower, instead of a sponge bath, but also refused to dress in hospital issued pajamas afterwards. Instead he was adamant on wearing sweats and a t-shirt, something comfortable enough to not irritate his incision and sore back and yet still his own clothing. It wasn't long after, when he had to explain his behavior to Dean, when the older man was starting to get exasperated with his pigheadedness.

It happened, when Nurse Jo tried to assist him back to bed and he stubbornly refused, persist in his demand to sit in the recliner instead. Any attempts she made to convince him otherwise failed, finally ending in the young man shaking her helping hand off and walking the few steps to the chair alone and almost falling, when he tripped, if it wouldn't have been for Dean standing by and steadying him with a fast grip to his shoulder. Together with the nurse he assisted Sam to sit down in the recliner.

As soon as he knew his brother was safe, Dean couldn't hold back anymore, "Okay, I understand you are tired of all the 'you can't do this' and 'you have to go there', but…" He paused to give his words more weight, "…you are being a damn pain in the ass. Look Sam, everyone around here is doing the best they can to help you. Remember, they are professionals and they know what's good for you. I mean, just take a look at yourself, you look like you can't keep your eyes open for another minute."

The following silence was deafening and Bobby was about to intervene, when Sam's head turned toward his brother. Huge hazels filled with tears radiated puppy dog power all over the older brother. Jo, who was standing within reach of the 'rays', all of a sudden understood, how Sam controlled his brother and very possibly everyone else around him, as there was no way to get away from this kind of magic. At the same time she was sure the kid had no idea, what kind of authority he had over others, as there was an unmistakable innocence in those big orbs.

"I'm sorry Dean; I'm really not trying to be difficult." The young man's voice contained nothing but complete honesty, "It's just, well, this is my future we are going to talk about and I can't face my future in pajamas and lying on my back."

This was the moment a light went on in Dean's head. He never thought about it this way. He knew his brother was private, almost shy in many aspects of his life. For him to be laid out for everyone in this hospital to prod around on and look at had to be difficult in itself. To know that a lot of the time he hadn't even been conscious for it, thus completely out of control of what had been done to him, had to scare him out of his wits. It was no wonder he felt, he needed to wear his own cloths and sit in a chair, something that at least gave him the illusion of control, while facing his future.

No matter how much the older man would tease his baby brother about his shyness and no matter how little he could understand it, it was also something that made Sammy even more endearing and special to him. It didn't matter that he and everyone in the room knew it wasn't the best for Sam to wear himself out like this; sometimes knowledge had to back down to need.

"No, I'm sorry kiddo, I get it now. Just don't overdo it, alright?" He squeezed Sam's shoulder, almost melting at the repeat of the puppy look he received, only this time it was one of thankfulness. He swore if he ever would get the feeling the kid knew what he was doing, he would kill him.

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Dr. Carmichael arrived only a few minutes later. Looking at his patient, he smiled then sat down, "It's good to see you up and out of those unfashionable hospital clothes. I looked over your renal labs and they look outstanding for only a week after transplant. We still have to work on your blood count a bit, as I still don't like it all that much, but that's pretty normal at this point." He smiled at Sam, before asking, "Any questions for me?"

"Yeah, tell me what's going to happen from now on!" Sam couldn't hide his impatience, yet the doc only grinned, he was not really surprised after what Nurse Jo had told him prior to entering the room.

"This is going to take a while, so let's get started. I brought some more info with me, including my email and pager number. I also contacted the pharmaceutical companies who manufacture the drugs you have to take. They will provide them for free, as long as you will work with me and be willing to enter some trials, as they come up."

"No, absolutely not! My brother is not going to play lab rat for some drug company." Dean was standing up, his voice filled with anger.

"Sit down Dean and listen; it's not your decision to make." Sam told his brother, before turning to the doc, "Now, please explain this."

The specialist wasn't deterred by the reaction and went on, "I understand how this sounds to you, but I can assure you that I would never allow any of my patients to go through trials that are not closely monitored by me. Any of the medications have to be at least in the second round of trials, which means they shown effectiveness and promise. I'm not going to risk loosing a patient, because of some new medication. On the other hand, some of those trials have saved lives, as the medications can have fewer side effects and sometimes even be more effective. And…I personally have to qualify you, which I will only do, if I think it would be beneficial for you."

Visible relieved the brothers exchanged glances, before concentrating once again on the doc.

"Okay, so the medication you are taking at the moment is only for the initial phase. Right now you are on a drug called Daclizumab. It was giving IV at time of transplant and you will receive it every two weeks for four more times. It is a new drug and still in a trial, but has none of the severe side effects most of the other drugs have, that's why I chose it for you. And the FDA is in approval process for it. In a few weeks we are going to start you on the maintenance dose, which is oral medication you'll have to take for the rest of your life. They are a combination of a corticosteroid, a calcineurin inhibitor and an antiproliferative. I understand those are big names, but stick with me, I will explain later. My choices are usually Prednisone, Tacrolimus and Mycophenolate Mofetil. These are big names that you don't have to remember, well except Prednisone, which is a common one that you hear daily. The other ones have brand names that are much easier to remember."

He looked at Sam, noting that any color had escaped from the younger man's face. Experience told him that it had nothing to do with what he just had been told, but rather was due to his patient having bitten off a bit too much this morning. Slightly worried, yet also remembering, what Jo had told him, the transplant surgeon put his hand in his pocket, pushing a few buttons then pulling out his vibrating Black Berry.

Looking down on it, he said, "Would you please excuse me, I have been waiting for this message. There is another patient I have to check on. It very likely will take me a couple of hours. Sorry about this, but this person isn't doing well." In leaving the added, "Why don't you get some rest Sam, we'll have a lot more to talk about when I get back."

Outside the door Dean, who had followed, stopped him, "Okay doc, what's going on? I saw you play with your phone before you pulled it out."

"I guess you didn't notice, but your brother is about ready to pass out. Didn't want to embarrass him by letting this happen, not after what Jo told me happened earlier."

He smiled, when he realized Dean very likely never heard his last few words, as he was already scrambling to get back to Sam. Dr. Carmichael shook his head then called out to one of the nurses walking by, "They could use some help in there and I want another CBC and BMP drawn from Mr. Winchester. Call me with the results as soon as you got them."

TBC

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_Oh no, a cliffie, or is it? Would the doc just walk out, if he was really worried? And what about the rest of the talk? How is this going to go down? Lots of questions, which I can't answer right now, because I don't know yet myself. Hope you liked it and will let me know again. Hugs, Vonnie_


	28. Chapter 28

_Per special request of Skag Trendy, who wanted some woozy Sam and comforting/worried bigbro Dean, I didn't ignore Sam's little spell, as I had planned and went into some detail. Hope you like it!_

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The older Winchester didn't wait for Dr. Carmichael to finish his sentence. The part of him saying, "I guess you didn't notice, but your brother is about ready to pass out…, was enough to make him scramble back into the room, where Nurse Jo and Bobby had just assisted Sam to sit down on the edge of the bed. Judging from the glassy, faraway look in the younger man's eyes, he was indeed not far from passing out.

"Sam, we're going to help you lie down now." Jo announced. Receiving no response, she gently put her hand on her patient's face, "Sam, look at me…" Seeing his head move ever so slightly in her direction, yet his eyes never focusing on her, she turned to Bobby, "Let's get him in horizontal before he passes out completely."

She felt bad for asking the older hunter for help, as his incision was still not healed, but knew that there would be no time to call for any other assist. Taking the main load, she efficiently shifted the tall man around and smoothly settled him into the pillows. By the time Dean made it over to the bed, she was already adjusting the bed, making his head go down, while elevating his feet.

Concern gripped the firstborn Winchester even tighter, as he noticed his brother's eyes were still glassed over and shifting around aimlessly. He heard another person enter the room and Jo call out an order, but didn't really acknowledge it, as he bent over Sam and lightly tapped his cheek.

"Sammy, come on kiddo, don't do this." He repeated the process several times, before he saw a response, as the blue-green eyes slowly became clearer and at last started to focus.

"Dean…" It was only one word, but to the older brother it also said, 'What happened? How did I get in bed? Thanks for being here."

Moving his hand away from the younger man's face, Dean responded in kind, as he said out loud, "The one and only!" The short sentence relaying, 'I'm right here, just relax, you gonna be fine. Now sleep, I'll still be here when you wake.'

Although both Bobby and Jo could hear only the words, the body language of the two brothers made it clear there was more to the conversation then the words spoken. Sam's eyes closed almost instantly and his body went lax, which at any other time might have alarmed the experienced nurse, if it wouldn't have been for Dean settling down in the chair and declaring, "He's gonna be alright now!"

Slightly confused Jo looked at Bobby, who just shrugged, these were his boys after all and he knew they didn't always need words to communicate.

Knowing that the nurse had no idea though, he explained, "They know one another better than they know themselves."

Before she could respond, another nurse entered the room with a tray containing a bag with IV fluids and several other items. Setting the tray down, she hung the bag on the pole and threaded the tubing through the IV pump, while Jo retrieved alcohol pads and a syringe from the tray. Using the pad to disinfect the lock to Sam's IV line, she connected the syringe and pushed its contents into the line, before discarding it and connecting the tubing to the lock.

Let it run at 200 for now, I'll adjust it in a little while." She instructed the other woman, before she turned to the two older men, "These are just some fluids; they should help his blood pressure recover. He is still a little anemic, which is not unusual at this time."

"What was in the syringe?" Dean gave her a sharp questioning look.

"Oh, sorry, I should have mentioned, it was just some saline solution to flush the line. It's procedure to flush before giving IV solutions, if the patient doesn't have them running continuously."

The older Winchester felt a little stupid for being suspicious, "Sorry, I didn't know!" He apologized.

"No problem, as I said before, I should have told you." She smiled, understanding his concern.

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When Dr. Carmichael returned three hours later, Sam was awake and feeling much better. Although he had been up and using the bathroom without having any problems with dizziness, he had decided to stay in bed this time. He was well aware that it had been his insistence of being up in the chair after already taking a shower, which had caused his syncopal episode and felt it would be more sensible to not tempt fate a second time today.

The surgeon smiled at him, "Just to let you know before we go on, your blood count is still a little low and so is your sodium. That and the exhaustion is what caused your trouble today, but it's nothing to worry about. It's already a lot better than it was right after your transplant. That doesn't mean you can't continue to increase your activity level, it just means you have to pace yourself for now."

"Thanks, doc, I guess I wasn't thinking." Sam blushed slightly then turned to Dean, "Maybe the next time I need to listen to you!"

Too stunned for a response, the older brother only stared at him; this confession wasn't what he expected.

"Now, you're ready to hear more about your recovery and future?" Dr. Carmichael rubbed his hands together.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"Alright, let's start with the drug you are on for the next two month. You'll have to come in to get it, as it is IV only. The main problem you have to look for is gastro-intestinal upset and diarrhea; worst case scenario would be bleeding. But I really don't expect you to have any big problems."

"Guess I can live with that." The young man nodded.

"Now your maintenance cocktail is going to be a little bit more problematic. You will have to be monitored closely for a while, so we can adjust the dosages to optimum. We want maximum effect with minimum side effects."

Sam looked at Dean, knowing his brother's need to keep going. Seeing the answer written in the green orbs, he inquired, "So what do I have to expect?"

"Honestly, it differs with every patient, but let's go over side effects of your meds and then we take it from there. So as I said, I'm planning on putting you on Prednisone, with is very commonly used to decrease the anti-inflammatory response of the body. Now, when using this drug long term, it can cause high blood pressure, weight gain, high blood sugars, glaucoma or opportunistic infections."

"Whoa, this is quite a list and it doesn't sound good at all." Dean interrupted.

The surgeon wasn't at all surprised by the reaction, "I know it is, but this is also going to be one of the drugs we will decrease as soon as possible and hopefully even discontinue. Now the next drug I was talking about, Tacrolimus goes by the brand name of Prograf. It started as a liver transplant drug, but now is used routinely for other transplants too, as it has fewer side effects than the other drugs. Now it can cause high blood pressure and blood sugars, hair loss, electrolyte imbalances, opportunistic infections and malignancies."

"Hair loss…, really?" The younger man was visibly upset.

Dean shook his head, "Dude, we are talking about cancer causing and you are worried about loosing a few hairs?"

"That's easy for you to say, as you're not the one loosing his."

"Yeah well, you might actually look good without hair; you know chicks like the 'bald' look." He laid his head to the side and gave Sam a critical look, then added, "Naaahhh, maybe not."

"Jerk" Sam took an empty paper cup from the side table and threw it at Dean, missing the older man by only a few inches and only because he had to sense of ducking in time.

"Bitch" The reply came flying back at him together with the cup, which this time hit its goal, Sam's head.

Grinning Dr. Carmichael explained, "I wouldn't worry too much, it doesn't happen that often." He had to fight to keep from laughing. It amazed him, how the older always seemed to find a way to lighten the mood, how both of them seemed so in tune with each other and seemed to be able to make one another laugh, even if there wasn't anything to laugh about. After he was able to pull it together, he continued, "The last drug in the cocktail is MMF or CellCept, which can cause some changes in your blood count, nausea, opportunistic infections and malignancies." He paused and took a glance at his listeners, "Now there is the word 'malignancies' again." He looked at Dean specifically at this, "I can assure you that also this is one of the most prevalent risks, we are monitoring diligently for it and most of the time we are able to catch any cancerous changes in the early stages."

"What if you don't?" Dean didn't like the idea of his brother taking medication that might cause him to die of cancer later on.

For a moment the specialist thought about his choice of words carefully, before he finally answered, "I'm not gonna lie to you, there is always a chance, but even then we can deal with it and right now we need to focus on the now and not the ten or twenty years down the road."

"What about the other thing, the one that all three meds had as side effects – opportunistic infections?" Sam nervously shifted around in his bed.

"Yeah, this is something we worry about and for this very reason we are also putting you on Bactrim, which is an antibiotic." Dr. Carmichael clarified.

"Okay, so what is an opportunistic infection anyway?" Bobby threw in, "All this medical mumbo-jumbo can make your head spin."

"Sorry, sometimes I forget. It simply means they are infections caused by agents that usually don't make people sick, because a healthy immune system can keep them controlled."

Oh, so what does that mean? Sam has to run around with a mask on his face for the rest of his life?" The older man continued to drill the doctor.

"No, he just has to be careful, especially in the beginning. We are trying really hard to decrease the dosages of all meds as much as possible. Many times we are able to reduce it down to one medication and that means it will cut the side effects to a minimum too."

"Wow, so there is really going to be a lot of things to watch for and to be aware of." Sam suddenly looked very downtrodden.

"Hey, that's why you got me, so you don't have to do it on your own!" His brother assured him, laying his hand on his shoulder.

"And I will be there too, whenever you need me." Bobby added.

Dr. Carmichael gave the men a moment, before he continued, "I know this is a lot to digest and I wish it was all, but there is more. One of the things you really need to be aware off, are the signs of rejection, especially during the first year. Before I go on with the symptoms, let me tell you, acute rejection is very treatable and doesn't mean you will loose the kidney. Now, let me tell you, what you need to watch out for. First of all a temperature above 100.4 F, weight gain of more than 2 pounds per day, decreased urination, high blood pressure and pain in your kidney area. I will give you an extra bottle of Prednisone, which you have to have with you at all times. If you have any of the symptoms call the number of my transplant center and they will give you instructions how many you need to take then get to the nearest hospital and I will work with them on your treatment."

Although his brother and Bobby had just told him, they would be with him all the way, Sam felt a heaviness settle over him that he just couldn't shake. How could he expect for Dean to give up hunting, for him and Bobby to be constant on the look out for him? Was it really worth having a new kidney, if it meant he could have all those problems? He suddenly wasn't sure of it anymore. Maybe it would have been better, if he would have died?

"Don't even go there" The transplant surgeon was startled by the sudden outburst from the older Winchester, "I know what you're thinking, but you're wrong, it is worth it and there is nothing you can do to keep me…" Noting the nod from the elder hunter, he corrected himself, "…keep us from sticking with you!"

"But…"

"No buts boy!" Bobby cut him off before he could say anything else, "If you think we'll let you do this on your own, you are just as much of an idjit as your father was. Old fool also thought he could do things on his own. See what it got him. We're family and now that you carry my kidney in you, I have a right to take care of you, wouldn't want you to do anything stupid with it now!"

Dean grinned and even Sam couldn't help the small smirk that appeared on his lips. There was a warm feeling in him, like something he'd been missing for way too long was suddenly back. It made him feel strong, almost invincible, like he could take on the world and not just the problems that could arise from the transplant or the medications. He wanted to put his feelings into words, but found that not even a Stanford education had not given him the words he needed to express, what he felt right now. Instead he settled for looking up at his brother and friend, his large hazels saying all the things he wasn't able to.

"Thanks!"

TBC

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_See, no cliffies and no being mean to Sammy and making him sick again. The only thing I'm worried about is that I bored you with the medical talk. It's pretty dry, but Sam needed to know this stuff. Let me know what you think. Hugs, Vonnie_


	29. Chapter 29

_I know it has been forever and four weeks since I posted the last chapter. I'm sorry for that. Let's just say I've been going through a little low and leave it with this. Hope you're still with me._

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Sam felt more than just little uncomfortable sitting in a wheel chair and being pushed by Nurse Jo. The only thing making it a little bit easier was that they were on the way out of the hospital. Dean had gone out a few minutes ago to pull the car up to the door, while Bobby accompanied the youngest Winchester, carrying his bag and the discharge instructions.

It had been a little over a week since Dr. Carmichael had explained to him, what changes he would have to make and just as long since Dean and Bobby had committed themselves to being by his side every step of the way. There was no question in Sam's mind, that he would be far more scared to leave the save haven the hospital had been, if it weren't for those two men. Still, he wasn't quite sure, if he was ready for this, yet there was no going back anymore.

The automatic sliding doors opened and the nurse pushed the chair through, giving Sam his first breath of fresh air in what seemed like an eternity. Inhaling deeply, he enjoyed the scent of the flowers the wind blew over from the small hospital park across the drive. After breathing nothing else but filtered air, smelling only antiseptics and the food at mealtime, it felt good to be out in 'real' air.

Looking at his brother, who at that exact moment brought the large rental car to a halt in front of him, he closed his eyes for just a moment, letting the light breeze blow through his hair. Opening them again, he saw Dean getting out and walking around to his side, before opening the passenger side door with a grin on his face.

"Your coach has arrived my princess!" He teased.

"Does that mean you're the fairy godmother and Bobby is the prince?" Sam couldn't help asking?"

"More like the evil witch that will turn you into a frog, if you don't get in the car right now." Dean rebutted.

"We'll see about that!" The younger man responded, but stood up and took the few steps over to the vehicle.

Jo and Bobby laughed and Dean was glad to see his brother return the teasing. It felt great to have his little brother back.

After Sam was seated, the nurse came over and hugged him. She knew he would be back soon for his outpatient infusion of his anti-rejection drug, yet it was still difficult to see him go. Sure, she wouldn't want it any other way, yet she had opened her heart to him and his brother and they had taken it and run away with it.

"Call, if you need anything, you got all the emergency numbers on your papers. And take care of yourself, okay!" She instructed him.

"I gonna make sure he will, or he'll get his butt kicked." Dean smirked.

Sam just looked at her and pulled her into a hug of his own. He had grown fond of the nurse too.

"Thanks, for everything." He said, "I'm glad you've been there, especially when Dean and Bobby needed you."

She smiled thoughtfully, before she said, "Me too kid, me too!" Standing up, she stepped back and closed the door.

Dean moved to the back and opened the trunk to let the older hunter stack the bag inside. Getting back into the driver's seat, he waited until their friend settled into the back seat, before taking off.

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The moment Dean guided the car into the salvage yard and up the drive; Sam was overcome by a strange feeling, one which he couldn't quite place. When the vehicle stopped in front of the house, he got a look at the Impala, covered up with tarp and obviously just waiting for the older Winchester to return and work on her. That and Bobby's house with Rumsfeld getting up from his favorite spot on the front porch, running down the steps toward them, his tail going a hundred miles per hour, the junk yard and its ten thousand hiding places, all of it made him realize what it was he felt. It was a sensation of coming home. The Impala, the junk yard, they were his home, were their home, the only consistencies in both their lives.

When he was little, there was only one place he could always count on being, where his dad would always be there and that was the classic black car. That only changed, when their father gave the Impala to Dean and from then on forward he could count on finding his brother in or close to his baby.

At the same time there had only been two other places he and his brother considered something like home, one having been Pastor Jim's parsonage, a place they had lost only a short while ago, when Demon Meg had killed their fatherly friend. The other had always been Bobby's place. He had been their dad's first mentor and the boys had spent a lot of time here, sometimes even months at a time. The experienced hunter had become a member of their family long before John Winchester's death and long before he donated his kidney to Sam. The gift was only an extension of a bond between the boys and Bobby that although different, was almost as strong as the one between Sam and Dean.

The youngest Winchester stood leaning against the car for a moment, letting his eyes wander over his surroundings. A smile appeared on his face and before he could prevent it a content sigh escaped his lips. He was home, at last.

Dean watched his brother climb out of the car and stand motionless for several minutes. While Sam took in his environment, Dean took in Sam's expression. There was no need for him to ask or for his brother to explain the peace that had started to appear in the younger's eyes and was now radiating from there outwards into all directions until it covered his whole face, leaving it with something that could only be described as a glow, because it spoke all for itself. Motioning to Bobby to go inside, he gave the kid another moment, before he interrupted him.

"Let's go inside geek boy. Bobby's old couch feels just as much like home and as soon as you're on it, I can quit worrying about you face planting." He said with a smug grin on his face.

"Oh yeah, well then lets go." Sam smirked, seeing right through the front his brother put on, "I wouldn't want you to worry; you know what they say? Worry gives you wrinkles and makes you age faster."

He stepped away from the car and walked past Dean, keeping his lips pressed together to keep from laughing at the look on the other man's face.

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The next several weeks brought up and downs for the youngest Winchester. Yet it was clearly visible that the ups started to become more prevalent, pushing the downs into the corner, where they belonged. He tolerated the biweekly infusions of anti-rejection medications better than anyone, including him would have expected and this had a tremendous impact on his attitude.

Bobby and Dean were almost ecstatic to see Sam's progress. Although still too thin for his frame, the young man had started to put on some weight, as his appetite improved and with it came a boost in his energy level. This led him to eagerly start up a light exercise program his physical therapist had recommended. He still continued to go to the therapy sessions at the rehab center three times weekly, but in between he started and ended his day with a walk

Not willing to let his baby brother out of his sight, Dean accompanied him, even getting up early just for this very purpose. After the way the older man had avoided him for so long, the youngest Winchester actually basted in the closeness and attention his brother gave to him.

It was about two weeks after they started this routine that Dean stopped at the halfway point and sat down on a fallen tree.

"Hey Sammy, why don't you sit?" he padded the spot beside him, "I wanna talk to you."

The taller man gave him a surprised look, this certainly didn't sound like the Dean he knew.

"Okay, you sure you're feeling alright?" He asked, but decided to do as asked and sit down beside his brother.

"Yeah, I'm fine…" It suddenly dawned on Dean, why Sam would ask such a question. A smirk appeared on his face, "You mean because I want to talk? I know it's a little unusual, but this is important!"

"Okay, so what is it?"

"It's about your sleepwalking…" The older brother started.

"Did I do it again?" Sam was visibly upset and shook up at the thought.

Dean put a calming hand on his shoulder, "No, at least not as far as I know. The problem is that you could start up again at any time and that's why we have to talk about it."

"But how do you want to prevent it, if we don't eve know what will trigger it? I mean I've lost Jess and there were a lot of other things and I never started it."

"I know what triggered it this time, it was me."

"Dean…" Sam protested.

"No, I know it was me. Jessica, hunting, loosing dad and then I behaved like a major jerk. I'm sorry Sammy; I was so caught up in my own grief, in my inability to deal with it that I forgot about you." Dean explained.

"They, it's alright, I was a pain in your butt with my constant need to get you to talk." His younger brother assured him.

"It's not alright, don't do that don't try to put this on yourself again." His words sounded sharp and angry. Looking up at Sam, he could see the hurt in the large hazels and he hurried to add, "Look, I acted like a jerk and no matter how big of a pain you can be at times, it's not an excuse for it."

"Okay, apology accepted." Sam smiled, knowing that the words didn't come easy to Dean, but were nonetheless heartfelt, maybe even more so, because it was so difficult for the older man to say them.

"I wasn't there, when you needed me and that's why you started sleepwalking again."

"Maybe you're right." Sam agreed reluctantly.

Dean smiled, "I know I'm right!"

"And how does that prevent me from doing it again?"

"I want you to promise me something." Dean's green eyes searched and found Sam's blue-greens, "I want you to promise me, if I ever act like this again, you shoot me with rock salts."

"Dean…"

"I know, I know, you wouldn't do it, but you should, I give you permission." He smirked, "At least promise me to talk to Bobby, he has no problems shooting me with rock salt or really bullets for that matter. You know how he is."

Now even Sam couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face. He knew how protective Bobby could be. There had been several occasions, when he threatened their father, when he wasn't in agreement with the way John dealt with his boys. On one occasion he even used his shotgun for a more intimidating effect.

"I will, I promise!" He finally said.

Watching his brother's expression closely for any signs of deception and not finding any, he finally responded with a simple, "Thanks!" He was determined to never again let it get this far, yet he needed Sam's promise as extra insurance, just in case.

TBC

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_No cliffhanger, but I have the next chapter already planned out. A little bit more excitement then. Hope you let me know what you think after all this time. Hugs, Vonnie_


	30. Chapter 30

_Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, here is the next part for you!_

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The day he was finally going to start on the oral anti-rejection drugs, Sam felt almost giddy. It was a word, he usually wouldn't utilize to describe his feelings and which actually wasn't really a part of his vocabulary, at least not on a daily basis. Yet right now he didn't know a better term to describe his emotions and even Dean could see it in the spark that lit up his expressive hazels.

"So Sammy, what is it that put this silly grin on your face?" Dean teased the taller man, "Is it the fact that the vampires in the clinic just depleted you of another gallon of blood or rather that the doc gave you prescriptions for so many pills it should replace two of your daily meals?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Sam responded with a smirk, as he fastened his pace towards the Impala, sparkling in all her newly restored beauty in the midday sun. It was the first time Dean had taken the black classic to town since he finished repairs two days ago.

Trying to open the door, he heard the jingle of several keys behind him.

"You forgot I've locked her before we went in." Dean grinned, dangling the key in front of his nose.

Before the older man had a chance to react, his brother snagged the means to get the car from his hand. Unlocking it, he moved across the bench seat and behind the wheel. He slid the key in the ignition and started the engine, before he turned to Dean, who was still standing in the same spot as before.

"You gonna get in or you rather walk?"

Still a little flabbergasted, the firstborn Winchester sat down and pulled the door shut. Only after they left the parking lot did he recover enough to asked, "You sure you're okay?" Yet there was a grin on his face as he asked.

"Yeah, I'm good, really." Sam responded, not taking his eyes off the road. He really enjoyed the smooth feel of the steering wheel in his hands and the roar of the powerful engine in front of him.

A sudden moan drew his attention to the back, letting his eyes glide to the rear mirror, his heart started to pound in terror, as he saw Dean's sweat drenched face reflected in it, his brother's breath coming out in panting gasps, his eyes clouded over by pain. Panicked he turned to his left, expecting to see the real Dean there, instead his eyes meeting the brown ones of his father. For a split second, he stared at him, before the blinding headlights of a truck pulled his attention away. The shattering impact happened almost instantly, the splintering of glass and the crashing of metal on metal linked with the screaming, he only distantly identified as his own. Then there was nothing, not black or white, just absolute nothingness.

His hearing returned first, loud wheezing noises filling his ears. A tight metal band around his chest prevented it from expanding and was all that kept his hammering heart from tearing it apart. A scream was moving up his throat, yet as he tried to blurt it out, there was no noise coming out, just desperate gasps, as his lungs wheezed for air. Darkness encroached from the periphery of his vision, working its way inwards and making it impossible to focus, the lightheadedness preventing him from holding on to a clear thought. His skin felt like a thousand needles continuously pricked into it, making him feel like he was going out of his mind, when suddenly hands appeared on his shoulders, pushing him backwards.

"Sammy, snap out of it, come on!" The words didn't quite reach his brain, yet the voice behind them was familiar. Latching onto it, the next ones became clearer.

"Breathe, Sammy, breathe, nice and easy!" The coaching continued, "Slowly…, in… and out…just watch how I do it."

Automatically, he copied the taking in and letting out of air, the gentle, yet firm voice slowly beginning to make more sense.

"D'n?" He turned his head to the side, his vision clear enough now, to see the worried face of his brother. Back in the present at last, he pushed back, his hand desperately searching and finding the door handle. Getting out, he stumbled on unsteady feet towards the side of the road, falling to his knees and donating the contents of his stomach to the local wildlife.

Even before the retching turned into dry heaving, he could feel his brother's hand pulling back his hair, drawing him back against him, when his stomach finally started to settle and exhaustion took over. Leaning against Dean's shoulder, he closed his eyes, opening them again, when the scene from earlier started to replay itself once again in front of them.

"Okay, so what's going on and don't tell me you're fine." The older Winchester pried in a firm, yet gentle voice, while handing him a paper napkin, he'd grabbed out of the glove box on his way out of the car.

Wiping his mouth, more to gain time then due to actual need, Sam drew in a breath, "Can't drive…, you have to!"

Attempting to get up, he found himself pulled back to the ground, "No way, you're not getting off that easy. Telling me I have to drive, because you can't just doesn't cut it! You have to explain yourself a little better here."

Giving Dean a careful look, Sam let his head hang. It was obvious that his brother wasn't going to let this one go.

"I can't drive, because what happened is my fault!" He pushed the words out as fast as possible and without ever looking at Dean.

There was a long, pregnant pause, before the older Winchester finally responded, "How is some demon ridden trucker crashing his rig into the Impala your fault?"

"I was driving, I should have…"

"Should have, could have…!" Dean put his hand on his brother's chin and pulled it up until he looked into the blue-green orbs, "You had no idea and even if you would have, we're talking about a semi plowing into the side of a car, even if the car is my baby." He couldn't help but add.

"Yeah, but it's not that simple." Sam's voice was close to breaking.

"It is, but I know it isn't!" The older man knew his brother well enough to see that he needed to give him time. This had been the first time since the accident that Sam had been behind the wheel of a car and it being the very same one he crashed, had obviously brought back memories, he had buried before, something which sadly but truly showed he was a Winchester in every sense.

"Okay, let's go, I drive!" Dean helped the younger man to his feet and guided him into the passenger seat. For now, he would let it rest, but this wasn't over yet, not until he was sure the kid would be able to let it go too.

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After getting back to the salvage yard, Dean spent the afternoon helping Bobby fix the car of one of his longtime customers. By the time suppertime came around, both of them were dirty and greasy, but also satisfied that they finished the job. Deciding a shower was in order before either of them could eat the two men disappeared upstairs. Returning half an hour later, Sam greeted them with a set table and a large bowl filled with spaghetti, meatballs and sauce, a salad and garlic bread.

"Sorry, the bread is a little burned!" The youngest Winchester said apologetically, "I got a little distracted and left it in the oven too long."

"Its fine, boy!" Bobby assured him, taking a big bite from it, hurrying to flush it down with a gulp from his beer, while hoping Sam didn't see him grimacing at the taste of the blackened bread.

Dean grinned, he didn't like garlic bread and Sam knew it. Instead, he started to dig into the big pile of spaghetti and meatballs on his plate, enjoying his meal mightily. Finishing, he eyed the bowel of salad his brother set in front of him. Initially he was tempted to push it aside, but finally decided to bite the bullet. To his surprise, he actually liked it.

"Cesar Salad" Sam had been watching his brother and saw the astonished look on his face.

"What?"

"It's called Cesar Salad." Sam repeated.

"I guess I could get used to this kinda rabbit food. I mean, not that I really like it, but it's at least eatable." He hurried to add.

"Yeah, I understand." His brother smirked knowingly, deciding not to tease the older man with it right now, but it might be material for some future time.

Dean finished the salad then helped clear the table. Setting the plates in the sink, he thoughtlessly looked at the window, watching the evening sun make the pane sparkle. For a second he paused, before he turned around.

"Bobby, what happened to your window?"

"What, is it broken?" Grumbling the older man shot off his chair.

"No, but it sparkles!" The older Winchester told him.

"Have you lost your marbles boy? None of my windows sparkle." Bobby gave him a peculiar look.

"Now they do, at least the downstairs one. I didn't get to the upstairs ones." Sam stated matter of factually.

"Boy, why in the world would you do a thing like that?" The grizzled hunter asked, yet there was no doubt, he appreciated what Sam had done. Although cleanliness had left his house the moment his wife died, Bobby still valued it, just didn't take the time for it.

"Just wanted to make myself useful around here and this was something I could do." Sam admitted, letting out a yawn. The work had tired him out more then he liked to admit.

"Well thanks, they sure needed it." The older man said, adding carefully, "You look tired though, maybe you want to take it easy the rest of the evening." The last thing he wanted to do was offend his youngest surrogate son.

"Guess I am tired." Sam admitted, "I think I just head upstairs and lie down, read a book."

"Yeah, do that, Dean and I can do the clean up down here."

The older brother put in a halfhearted protest, but even Sam could tell it was only for show. Grabbing a book he'd been looking at from the library, he headed upstairs, leaving the two older man to do the dishes.

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It didn't take long to clean up the kitchen. Afterwards both men grabbed a beer from the fridge and headed outside, sitting down on the porch swing. Taking a swig, Bobby looked at the younger man.

"So, what's going on?"

"Why would you think something's going on?" Dean gave him a surprised look.

"Because I know you and I know your brother. When you got back from town both of you looked like something happened and then you've been off most of the afternoon."

Playing with the bottle in his hand and seemingly fascinated by the foaming liquid in it, the older Winchester finally answered, "Sam had a flashback of the accident."

There was a moment of silence, as the salvage yard owner pondered the response. When he at last spoke, it was in form of another question, "How did this happen?"

Slowly Dean recounted the event, in the end adding, "Why would this happen now, when things finally start to look up?"

"Son, I wish I could give you an answer to that, but there isn't one, at least not a good one. Could be his mind was so occupied with all the other crap going on that this just didn't come out till now. You're dad could have probably told you a lot more about this kinda thing, he experienced some of it himself."

"Dad did?" The young hunter looked shocked, "But how?"

"Today they call it 'Post Traumatic Stress Disorder' or 'PTSD', something that a lot of veterans of all wars are suffering from. The first time it got any attention though was after Vietnam."

"Did you…" He didn't finish the sentence.

"Yeah, I had it too, but not to the extent some of the others had it. Your dad dealt really well with it, until he lost your mom. It was hard after that. He told me once, between the flashbacks of Nam and your mom burning, he would have gone nuts, if it wouldn't have been for the two of you." Bobby stated.

"So how does this help Sam?"

"He is going to get through this, because you and I will make sure of it." The older man said with determination.

Dean gave him a doubtful look, his heart aching for his little brother, "But how?"

"By being there for him, making sure he starts believing that it wasn't his fault, giving him time to heal."

"I hope it will be enough!" The older brother emptied his bottle in a long draw, setting it down on the wooden planks in front of him.

Bobby laid his hand on his shoulder, "It will be son, you just have to believe it!"

TBC

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_Hope this wasn't too sappy. Let me know what you think! Hugs, Vonnie_


	31. Chapter 31

_Thanks for all of your support. Without any further ado, here is the next chapter!_

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Sam continued to keep busy by first cleaning the upstairs windows then starting in on the library. He found dusting and organizing the countless books Bobby owned kept his mind of the accident, at least most of the time. Ever so often his mind started to drift though and this was usually the time, when he found himself back in the car without any forewarning, reliving the accident, hearing the impact of the truck, seeing blood, Dean's blood and that of their father. And just as sudden as it started, it ended and he was back in the library, gasping for air, tears streaming down his face. Hurrying to wipe the moisture off, he forced himself to get back to the task at hand, suppressing the images of terror still swirling around in his mind.

The problem was that those incidents increased in frequency, leaving not just terror behind, but also decreased his ability to keep centered. More than once he found that he had made a mistake in organizing one of the book shelves and he had to start over, which in the end left him more than a little frustrated. Add the nightmares and his attempts to hide them to this and it became a recipe for disaster.

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It wasn't difficult for Dean to notice that his brother once again wasn't sleeping well. Even if he wanted to, the waking up in the middle of the night screaming was not something easily ignored. Trying to get the truth out of his Sam proved even more difficult though, as the younger man insisted, he couldn't remember the nightmares he had. Initially irritated, Dean had to take only one look into the kid's confused hazels to know he was speaking the truth. Still, it didn't make him feel any better, as he knew the dreams were likely about the accident and Sam needed to talk about it.

The younger Winchester on the other hand felt emotionally overwhelmed, knowing just as well, what the nightmares were all about, although he really couldn't remember them. As a matter of fact they scared him even more than his waking flashbacks, which were as vivid, as the nightmares were obscure.

Unable to wrap his mind around the fear he felt at times, he stayed awake as long as possible to escape the darkness awaiting him when he fell asleep. Yet the lack of rest left him too tired to deal with the flashbacks, which in turn made him irritable and even more unable to focus.

Slowly he turned his regime of walks into jogs, finding the exercise helped him to clear his mind and actually made him feel better. It didn't take him long though to realize his physical fitness was starting to deteriorate at an alarming rate, making him loose most of the ground he so desperately had fought for.

Dean, who had continued to accompany Sam on his outings, had watched as the younger man upped his regime only to be unable to persevere. It had been mostly due to his older brother's presence that Sam had initially continued to struggle.

Today though he was certain he wouldn't be able to keep it up. Sitting at the kitchen table and nibbling on a piece a toast, he looked at Dean, who was pouring coffee for Bobby and himself.

"I don't have time run with you this morning; I finally need to get the library finished, so I can start with the rest of the house." Sam kept his head down, never making eye contact with his brother, as the other turned towards him.

"I'm sure those books waited this long, they won't complain about having to wait a few more days." Dean smirked.

"Well, they might be able to wait, but I won't." There was an irritated nuance in Sam's voice, "Not everyone has your 'give a shit' attitude!"

The younger man got up and stormed out, leaving his barely touched breakfast and a stunned Dean and Bobby behind.

"Okay, where did that come from?" The salvage yard owner questioned after a long moment of silence.

Dean only shrugged his shoulders, "Not sure, he has been running on kind of a short fuse lately. It's probably because of not sleeping much and the nightmares."

"I noticed, has he said anything about the dreams yet?"

"Nah, he still doesn't remember, although they are very frequent now, at least nightly, sometimes more often, if he sleeps long enough that is." The younger man added.

"What about the flashbacks?" Bobby continued to pry.

"I asked him several time, but he denies having any. I have the feeling he isn't telling me the truth though, but I haven't witnessed one, since the first one, so I'm really not sure."

"You know your brother, if your gut tells you he has flashbacks, then he probably has them. I really wanted to let him come to us, but I think he doesn't leave us a choice." The grizzled hunter rubbed his beard then took a gulp from his coffee, before he continued to talk, "I think I'm going to have a little conversation with your brother."

He stuffed the last piece of bacon in his mouth and shuffled over to the library, taking his time, as he tried to form a plan on how to approach his youngest surrogate son.

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Sam was kneeling on the floor, blowing the dust of a book, he had taken from the top of a pile stored in the corner by the window. Skimming through it, he noticed it was written in a language that probably was an ancient Germanic. Turning it back to the first page, the imprint read 'Rangersdorf, Deutschland, 1874'. On closer inspection he could tell it was hand bound and the paper was different than that of mass productions.

"There were only four of those made." Bobby's voice startled him out of his assessment.

"Didn't hear you come in!" He looked around at the man standing behind him.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you, I just thought you might like to know." The hunter said, "This is a pretty rare book and I'm fortunate to own it. "

"How did you get it?" Sam's interest was peaked.

"From a hunter friend, Gabriel Lang, who was born in Germany, but came here with his parents, when he was only a couple years old. His great-grandfather was the guy, who printed it. The guy translated the original rune signs printable language and hand printed them in his barn. Gabe gave it to me, when I was looking into some disappearances that were different then anything I've ever seen, thought it might help."

"So did it?"

"Sure did, sad thing is, I never got a chance to give it back to him, he died killing the thing I was looking for." There was sorrow in the older man's voice.

Sam looked up at him, "So what was it?"

"It turned out to be a Krampus."

"Krampus – never heard of it, it sounds weird."

Bobby laughed before he turned serious again, "It is weird, believe me. Name means 'claw' in the old language. It's a demon that stems from the southwestern area of Germany. It supposedly accompanied old Saint Nick and would scare women and children. Problem was this one didn't just scare them; it lived up to its name, first clawing them to death then devouring them. Gabe saved my live, when the thing attacked but got hit by those giant claws. I managed to kill it, but by the time I got to him, he was already dead, it tore right through his chest. It was only because of this book that we knew to use a sword coated with the wax from Christmas candles."

"I'm really sorry about your friend!" Sam locked eyes with his the older man.

"Yeah, me too, Gabe was a good guy." He took his baseball cap off and wiped his arm over his forehead, before replacing it again, "But I didn't come in here to talk about my past. What I really wanted to talk about is…"

"Did Dean put you up to this?" The younger Winchester interrupted, "Because if he did, you can tell him there is nothing to talk about!" Sam turned away, devoting his attention to the book in his hand.

Not having expected this kind of reaction, Bobby took a deep breath, before he tried again, "Son, your brother didn't put me up to anything. I just agree with him that you need to talk about what's going on."

"What, you're a shrink now?" The younger man retorted snippy.

The hunter tried to ignore the hurt, he felt at the remark, instead he answered, "No, but I care about you and I know a little bit about what you're going through."

"You…you know? How can you?"

"I didn't say I know exactly, I've been there, seen others that been there too."

"You put a bullet in your father's leg, when he ordered you to kill him? And because you didn't follow his order, you almost killed your brother and him, in the end causing him to make a deal so your brother could live? You did…, really? Because if you didn't then you better shut up now and leave me alone!"

The younger man ran out of the house without looking back, slamming the door behind him. He didn't stop until he tripped over a rusty fender that had fallen off one of the junk cars. Bracing himself on what was left of the same vehicle, he stood for a moment, panting for air. When his head finally cleared a little, the words, he threw at Bobby came raining down on him. Horror filled him, at how he had treated the man, who had given him nothing but kindness.

Slowly he slid down to his knees, nothing but anguish filling his mind. There were no tears, no sounds, just silent and unending misery. He knew he screwed up again, just like he always did. Nothing, absolutely nothing would ever change that. The black sheep, the looser, the…

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It seemed like this had been only the beginning of the downwards spiral the youngest Winchester experienced throughout the next few days. The nightmares accompanying the few hours of sleep he got and the flashbacks during the day seemed now to be the least of his problems. Although terrified of falling asleep, he still didn't seem to be able to muster the energy to get out of bed, before the middle of the day. Instead he lay there, staring at the wall or ceiling, some part of his mind fighting to convince him it was time to get up, while the rest of it just told him, it wasn't worth it.

Even after he finally made it out of bed, he would usually just sit around, at times changing his choice of locations from the living room to the kitchen or the library. Once in a while Dean or Bobby would catch him with a book in his hands, yet it was clear that he wasn't actually reading it, as he would never turn a page and one time the older Winchester noted, he actually held it upside down.

"Okay, this is enough; tell me what's going on!" He demanded to know, his concern for his brother running overtime.

The younger man looked at him like he had just woken up from a nap or come out of a trance, "Nothing is going on!" He finally answered, "Can't I even read without you getting on my nerves?"

"Yeah, right…" Dean took the book out of his hand with a little more force than necessary, turning it around and holding it out to his brother, "Because you're so proficient in reading upside down."

For a second Sam actually blushed like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, but the next thing that came out of his mouth, was completely unexpected, "See, that's just it, you guys are constantly watching me. I can't do anything without it being scrutinized or criticized. I wish you would finally leave me alone and let me live my own life, instead of constantly nosing around in it."

Getting up, he stormed up the stairs and disappeared in their room, banging the door shut behind him.

Dean stood motionless for a moment, the book still held in his hand, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that his little brother just told him to get out of his life and then ran out on him. It was Bobby, who was standing in the doorway between the two rooms, who finally tore him out of his reverie.

"There is more going on here than meets the eye. This isn't just PTSD." He mused.

"I know I just wish I would know what it is?"

"Maybe you should talk to Sam's doctor, what's his name again?" The salvage man suggested.

"Freeman…, yeah that might be a good idea. I'll call him right now." Dean took his cell out, scrolling down until he found the number of the clinic.

Bobby retreated back to the kitchen, giving the younger man some privacy to make the call. He knew Dean would share the information he obtained as soon as he was finished.

Keeping himself busy with taking the meat for the burgers they were going to have out of the refrigerator, he was not disappointed. The older brother appeared beside him about ten minutes later.

"So what did he say?"

"Didn't get to talk to him, but his nurse did and she told me he wants to see Sammy tomorrow morning at seven." Dean answered.

"That's early; I didn't know doctors were even up at that time of day." The older hunter grinned.

"Yeah well, I don't think they are, we just have to be there so they can draw some blood and have the results ready for the doc, when he sees Sammy. The nurse said it could have something with his meds, so they really want to make sure they got everything they need."

Bobby stroked his beard in thought, "Guess it's good to know the guy is covering all the bases and not just taking a shot in the dark."

"Yeah, I wouldn't let him do that anyway, not with Sammy. Too bad they told me he couldn't eat before the appointment because of the tests."

"Kid is hardly eating anything as it is." The hunter looked at the younger man for a moment, before he suddenly said, "Hey, why don't you take him to that new coffee place in town afterward, they just opened last week."

"Oh you mean Cup of Joe?" Dean said enthusiastically, "That's a great idea, buy him one of those girly milked down coffees, I'm sure he like that. I heard they have great homemade pies there too."

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The next day Bobby waited with anxiety for 'his' boys to return from town. It was a little after noon and he couldn't belief they weren't back yet. It wasn't until he suddenly heard the roar of a familiar engine that his unease let up slightly. Yet it increased by a hundredfold again, when a pale and tired looking Sam stumbled over the doorstep.

"You okay there, boy?"

"Yeah, just tired, I'll lie down for a while!" The young man never looked at him; instead he made his way upstairs without another word.

It took only a few seconds before Dean followed his brother inside, "Did Sammy go upstairs?" He asked.

"He did, what's going on, he looked awful?"

"Yeah well, he didn't sleep last night at all, although he thinks I don't know, but I can tell by his breathing pattern and then he had the blood draw this morning and we waited for two hours to see Doc Freeman, just to have him order another scan of his kidney, he wanted to be on the save side. When we finally got out, I tried to convince the kid to go to the coffee shop and he gave that look that told me everything I needed to know. So we came right back here. Probably better anyway, he really needs to get some rest." The firstborn Winchester explained.

"I made some sandwiches and mac'n'cheese, if you want some." Bobby offered.

"Sure, I could eat!" Dean headed for the kitchen, leaving the other hunter behind with a smile on his face. At least one of them was eating; although for Dean not to eat, he would have to be dead or at least close to it.

Watching him grab one of the sandwiches and taking a bite from it, while piling some of the mac'n'cheese onto his plate, the older hunter opened the fridge and took to sodas out. After sitting down himself, he said, "So, what did the doc say?"

Dean swallowed most of the food in his mouth and flushed the rest down with a big gulp from his soda.

"He said it's pretty common for transplant patients to suffer from a major bout of depression, so he put him on some meds for it and also gave him something that would help him sleep. He was worried about some of the labs though, that's why he did the scan…"

"How did that turn out?" As much as he tried, he couldn't completely keep the worry out of his voice.

The younger man smiled, "Kidney is working fine, he increased the Prednisone tough, he thinks there were some minor signs of rejection, but to say it in his own words, 'this should do it'. He wants to see Sam again next week, or earlier, if there is any problem."

"Great, let's just hope there won't be any." The junk yard owner let out a breath, unsure if it was one of relieve or more tension, he couldn't bear the thought of Sam suffering any further setbacks.

TBC

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_So does Bobby have any reason to worry? How is this going to turn out? Hope you liked it. Please let me know what you think. Hugs, Vonnie_


	32. Chapter 32

_Thank you to everyone reading and reviewing. Here is the next installment. Hope you will like it. Hugs, Vonnie_

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The day really couldn't have been any nicer than it was. The bright sun shared the blue sky above only with a few fluffy white clouds and the mild breeze was making the heat of the day bearable. It was the kind of day, when those having to work inside envied the ones lucky enough to complete their occupation on the outside. Dean certainly felt like he was one of those lucky ones today, as he once again assisted his fatherly friend with fixing up one of the older model cars. This time it was one of Bobby's own, a '64 Ford Mustang Convertible. It was in pretty rough shape and the junk yard man had promised the older Winchester part of the sales profits, if he helped restore it to its old glory, an offer the younger man couldn't refuse, especially as working on a car like this wasn't really work for him.

Still, today his mind wasn't really in it, as he again and again looked up to the window of the room he shared with his brother. Although it was already one in the afternoon, the curtains were still drawn and he knew that meant Sam still didn't make it out of bed. A fact that continued to worry him, although Doc Freeman had assured him yesterday that anti-depressive medication at time took two weeks, sometimes even longer to start to work.

It gave him little to no comfort though, as it was painful to watch his little brother isolate himself most of the time and be irritable the rest. By now it had gotten so bad; it became increasingly difficult not to react to the younger man's at time very nasty remarks. The only good news they had received on the follow up visit had been that the blood tests came back normal and the doc felt the danger of rejection, although it had been minor, had been averted.

Dean thought back to the prior morning and how much effort it had cost him and Bobby to coach Sam out of bed and into his clothes. In the end it had taken several threats of 'helping' before the younger man had peeled himself out of bed and the more the firstborn Winchester thought about it, it had quite literally been a 'peeling', as it had been a one by one turning back of the three blankets, before a slow moving toward the edge of the bed and a moving of each leg separately onto the floor had happened. When observing, how he had lifted his upper body from the bed, Dean had actually looked for stringy glue residue remaining between man and sheets, it had been that slow.

Sure, after being dressed and coming downstairs Sam's speed had at last returned to normal, yet his mood had continued to be gloomy and any conversation had been mostly one sided and had ended in another strange remark. It had almost been like a purposeful effort to alienate the people around him.

Even the doc had gotten his share, when he had suggested for Sam to see a therapist and the young man had told him to 'kiss his backside and that he wasn't going to see on of those fudging screw ups' Well, he hadn't actually used words quite as nice, the language he had resorted to had been much more colorful and had even made Dean blush, as it wasn't one the younger Winchester commonly used in public.

So it was really not amazing that the older brother couldn't keep the worry at bay. He just wished the meds would finally start to do their job. Feeling helpless wasn't really anything he did well.

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The twilight of the room matched the gloominess that filled the mind of the young man stretched out on the bed. He had been lying here for several hours without moving so much as an inch, staring at the ceiling and only the steady rise and fall of his chest and an occasional blink of his lids showed he was actually alive. If anyone would have shaken him at this moment and asked what was going on in his head, he wouldn't have been able to give an answer.

Sam felt like there was a wasteland within him; everything was void of emotions, void of color, void of air. It was almost like he didn't belong anymore, like he was only an observer, caught in this lifeless desert, seeing a world of light with blue sky and green grass on one side and a world of darkness, filled with thick inky blackness on the other. Both of them barely visible on either side of the horizon, neither close enough for him to ever reach.

Oh how he longed for the light, how at the thought of it he could almost feel the life giving force of it on his skin, yet even the darkness would have been better than this. To rest, to die being better than being caught in the steady unchanging gray of a land thirsting for anything living.

Startled out of his trancelike state by who knew what, still unable or maybe just unwilling to move, he remembered the medication he needed to take. His brother, who made sure he wouldn't let him forget them, had made him take the mother load this morning, after almost force feeding him eggs and toast. Still, even after eating, his stomach felt like every single pill, capsule and tablet had left a permanent indentation in it.

Lately it seemed like there had been more than before, although this couldn't be possible, or could it, he already took a whole wagon load of them. Finally his sluggish mind reminded him of the visit to the doctor last week and the recheck yesterday, the added pills, which were supposed to make him 'feel better'. And did they? Once again he had to pull his syrupy thoughts together to remember. Maybe they did and he just didn't know it yet. But shouldn't he be the first one to know?

There was one person, who would know and who could trust - his brother. He always knew best, so maybe he needed to ask him. Dean would know if he was better. He would ask him, would do it right now.

Peeling himself out of bed, he made his way step by dragging step down the stairs. Stopping in the middle of the living room, he stood for a moment, lost in thought. Why did he come down here in the first place? Maybe it was his bladder that called him, yet why didn't he go upstairs then? Unwilling to spend anymore energy on thinking, he used the bathroom then came back to sit down on the couch. What in the world was he good for, he couldn't remember anything from one minute to the next.

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Dean took a large gulp from his beer, before setting the bottle down on the small table in front of him. He thought about Sam, being glad the younger man had actually eaten some of the meat and half a bowl of salad for supper. It wasn't much, but more than he had eaten the past few nights. Still, the conversation had been one-sided once again and his brother had disappeared to their bedroom while the other two men had still been eating. Although he had been trying to avert his face, Dean had seen a glimpse the hopelessness clouding his eyes and of the desolation distorting his handsome features.

Looking up, he saw Bobby sitting in the old, beat up arm chair, seemingly intently staring at the TV. If it wouldn't have been for the type of programming, the young man might have bought into the scene, yet he just happened to know that the salvage yard owner wasn't really into paid commercial about some natural spray-on make-up foundation that would give the person wearing it a natural glow.

"You know, I think you should go with the medium coloration, the lighter one would make you look too much like a vampire and if you use the dark one, people might think you're a werewolf or something."

"Yeah, sure…" was the only response coming from the other man.

There wasn't even the slightest doubt in the young man's mind that Bobby didn't hear a word he said. He also knew, where his thoughts really were, as his own were in the same place. Yet in typical Winchester manner, he needed to at least try and make light of the problem at hand.

"Here, use my cell for you order."

"What?" The other hunter finally hefted his eyes on him.

"Call…you know, to order the medium foundation, the phone number is right on the screen."

"I have no idea, what you're talking about, but if I were in your place, I would watch it, I'm not too old to put you over my knee and paddle your backside." He growled at him, the creases around his eyes giving away his real response. It was good to see John's older son still had the ability to crack a joke.

"Yeah, yeah, I had to get your attention somehow. So, what were you thinking about?" Dean asked.

"Probably about exactly the same thing you were – your brother."

The young man's expression turned serious again, as he took another draw from his bottle, "Yeah well, can't help it."

"You're right. I just wish the kid would start talking or something." Bobby saw the worry lines on the younger man's face, "I've never seen him like this before, matter of fact, I've never seen anyone quite as bad."

The moment the words came out, he wished he could take them back, as he could tell; he just made things worse for his oldest surrogate son. Yet there was no way to take things back, one they had left your mouth and the saying, 'the tongue is sharper than the sword' once again proved it was true. All he could do now was to try and bring some hope to the destructiveness of those words.

"It doesn't matter, how bad he is right now, he will get better you just have to give him time and continue to believe in him." The old hunter knew it wasn't much of a hope, but it was all he had to give right now.

Dean let his head hang, staring at the half empty bottle in his hands. He wanted to belief, he really did, yet for Bobby to say the words he said, showed him it was worse. Not that he didn't know before, he just had pushed it away to be able to live with it. Now he couldn't even do that anymore.

"So what are we gonna do?" He wondered when he finally looked up.

"I'm not really sure." The older man answered honestly, "One thing I know though is that we can't give up on him. We have to be on his side and encourage him without pushing, give him space without abandoning him. But we also need to let him know that he has to follow the rules."

"Follow the rules…?" Confusion was written on the younger man's face.

"Yes, he has to get up at a decent time, take a shower at some time during the day, eat at least one decent meal a day and treat us with some respect." He explained.

"Don't you think that's a little too much, after all, he hardly makes it out of bed at all."

Bobby looked at the other with understanding, before he elaborated, "Not really, I don't expect him to jump out of bed at six and make breakfast, but he needs to be done by a certain time. He needs a schedule, some kind of a routine."

"Maybe you're right, maybe…" Dean started, when a noise from the stairway interrupted him.

"Sam…" There was noticeable surprise in his voice at seeing his brother appear.

The taller man came in the living room and sat down beside him.

Without looking at Dean, he said, "I was looking at dad's journal and noticed something."

The older Winchester exchanged a glance with their friend at the sudden change in Sam's appearance. It looked like he had taken a shower; his hair curling in moist strands around his head and the shirt he wore looked like it was freshly pressed.

"You want something to drink?" Bobby offered, "Sorry, no beer for you though, because of your meds, but I'll get you anything else."

Smiling at him, their youngest turned to his brother, "I think it's a Tulpa."

Dean stared at his brother without understanding, "What are you talking about?"

"Mordecai is a Tulpa, brought on by the belief of the web fans" It wasn't really an answer to the other brother's question, but rather a continuation of his prior statement.

Realization hit the older Winchester like lightning; still he refused to believe it.

"How about that drink Bobby offered you?" He asked, sending a desperate prayer to heaven that he would be proven wrong.

"That's why he first had an axe and then a rope, it makes sense now."

"Shit…!" He looked at Bobby, seeing that the older man came to the same conclusion he did, "What we gonna do now?"

"Waking him up is probably the best thing we can do." The experienced hunter suggested.

"You really think that's best?" Dean questioned, not sure he wanted to tear the younger man out of whatever reality he was in. After all, it seemed like for the first time in a few weeks, he was actually content, maybe even happy.

The decision was taken out of his hands, as the younger man stood up.

"I think I need to do a little more research to be certain. See you later."

Making his way back up the steps, he disappeared in the upper level hallway. It was only a few seconds later that the door to their bedroom opened and closed again.

Dean let a breath out, "I think I'm gonna check on him."

He went after Sam, just to return a few minutes later. Disappearing in the kitchen first, he brought back two more beers, handing one to the other man. Sitting back down, he opened the bottle and took a long draw from it.

"He is sleeping again. I don't wanna wake him now; maybe he'll finally sleep all night for a change." He explained.

"I understand, but you have to talk to him in the morning."

"I know, but I don't think it will do a whole lot of good right now, he won't even talk about any of the other problems." Dean was at the end of his rope. Sam sleepwalking again was only the last straw in the whole pile.

"You want me to do it?" The older man asked, understanding the firstborn brother's reluctance.

Only shaking his head, Dean took another drink, "No, it's my job!"

'Damn you, John Winchester.' The salvage man had no idea how many times he had thought those words, yet he still couldn't believe that a father ever would put such a burden on one of his children.

Changing the subject, he asked, "So what was the kid talking about?"

Dean smiled; at least those were memories of a time, if not happy, as it had been while they were searching for their dad and after Jessica's death, but at least better than now.

"We were investigating this haunting. The guy supposedly killed his family and now was an angry spirit, killing intruders with an axe. Those two locals had started this website about the 'Hell House' and in the end it turned out it wasn't really an angry spirit. They had made the whole thing up and in the process they had so many fans that believed them, they actually called up a Tulpa. Sammy figured it out, as the entity's MO changed every time the guys changed the story on their website."

"I wish people that have no idea what they are getting into, would keep their noses out of these things." Bobby said, "More harm is caused this way."

"Yeah, but we had some fun with those guys. I hid a rotten fish in their car and Sam called them, pretending to be a producer wanting them to come to Hollywood and write a movie about Mordecai." The young hunter laughed at the memory, "You should have seen them pack their stuff and get into their car, they were strutting like roosters in a barn yard. It was hilarious."

The older man smiled, it was good to hear Dean laugh, even if it was only for a moment. He just wished he could give him his brother back by making Sam better. Too bad that this wasn't in his power though; all he could do was pray and try to support both of his boys.

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The knock at the door startled Bobby out of his research. It was ten in the morning and he didn't expect anyone at this time. His customers knew to call before they showed up and so did any of his hunter friends and colleagues. Only few people came out to see him without announcing themselves prior to it, so the hunter followed his instinct and grabbed his shotgun on the way to the door.

Opening, he was more than just a little surprised, when he found Dr. Finch standing in front of him.

"Hello Mr. Singer." She greeted him, "Is it alright to come in?"

"Sure, you want something to drink?" Although he'd been living on his own for the longest time, the salvage man hadn't completely forgotten about common courtesy, even if he used it only in special cases, like this one.

"No, thanks, I think I'll get to the reason, why I'm here right away."

"Good, but why don't you have a seat."

"Thanks," Sitting down on one of the old upholstered chair, she continued, "I'm worried about Sam. I heard through the grapevine that he is having some problems."

Bobby stared at her with disbelieve. Misunderstanding his look, she hurried to add, "I know you're concerned about privacy issues, but I promise you, nothing got out. One of the older nurses from the ICU recently transferred to the clinic and works in the office, where Dr. Freeman works. She saw the boys there the day before yesterday and was more than just a little worried about the way Sam looked..."

"I wasn't really worried; I was more surprised that you showed up here, when you did, because we could really use some help here." The hunter explained.

Dr. Finch looked at him and any doubt she might have had about coming disappeared in an instant. The expression on his face told he enough.

"Okay, what's going on?" She asked.

Bobby gave her the condensed version, explaining about Sam's flashbacks of the accident and how he started to slip into a severe depression and bouts of irritability. He ended with the events from the last evening, when the younger Winchester started to sleepwalk again.

"So Dean is upstairs right now, trying to talk to Sam about what happened last night. I was sure it would be the right thing to do, but now I'm not so sure anymore." He closed.

"Is it okay, if I go up there and check on Sam?" The female physician wondered.

Bobby had to grin at that, "I don't think it would hurt. Let me show you."

Leading the way, he guided her to the stairs. Being halfway up, a scream erupted, followed by a loud crash. Looking at each other for a split second, they rushed upstairs and down the hallway. As Bobby pushed the door open, both stopped in shock at the scene before them.

TBC

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_So, what do you think now? Let me know and I send you some virtual chocolate chip cookies. Hugs, Vonnie_


	33. Chapter 33

_Okay, so I really hurried and got this next chapter out, so you wouldn't have to wait so long to find out what happened. Hope you'll enjoy._

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Dean Winchester wasn't a coward; he had proven that more than once in his life, yet he would have loved to chicken out of the task ahead of him. Making his way down the hallway, he thought about the task ahead of him, for the two...no, it had to be more for the three-hundredth time. In all reality, he had no idea how many times he actually had tried to figure out what to say and then had dismissed it again. And what was he supposed to say anyway? 'Sam, you promised you would talk to me and now you didn't?' or 'You're sleepwalking again and I could have prevented it!' He didn't even know if talking would have made a difference. The last thing he wanted was to drive his brother deeper into the fangs of his depression.

Pausing for a moment, he took a deep breath before he turned the knob and opened the door. Like he expected Sam was lying on the bed, yet to his surprise, he was dressed already.

"Hey Sam, can we talk?" The older man decided to come to the point right away, instead of beating around the bush any longer.

There was no response from the younger man, who continued to stare at the ceiling and for a moment Dean thought he didn't hear him. Only when his head turned ever so slowly and his hazel orbs almost met his green ones, did he comprehend that he'd been wrong.

"How are you feeling today?" Dean continued, giving his brother time to sit up. Sitting down on his own bed, he continued, "I know things haven't been easy for you, but I promise you we'll get through this together."

Again Sam showed no reaction. Watching him, the firstborn brother took in, how his shoulders were hunched over like the weight of the world was on him. His elbows braced on his thighs and his hands lying on top of each other, which in turn supported his forehead, like they were the only things keeping his way too heavy head from separating from his neck.

For a moment memories appeared in his mind, taking him back to a time before his baby brother knew about the things that went bump in the night. Even then he had been impacted by the things he didn't yet know about, as those things led their father to leave for days, sometimes weeks at a time, once in a while coming back injured or later than promised, missing out on special events like birthdays or Christmas, not to mention the soccer games and school plays.

He remembered just how sad and quiet Sammy would get at those occasions, how he would sometimes refuse to eat and only look at him with his big expressive eyes. Still, he had always been able to cheer his baby brother up and most of the time the little guy was a happy child, talking a hundred miles an hour and wanting to know everything about everyone. Why couldn't things be still like this?

Forcibly pulling himself back to the present, he said, "You probably don't remember any of this, but you were sleepwalking again."

Without moving his arms Sam turned his head upwards, until one of his eyes looked at his sibling. Although he didn't say a word, Dean could read in his expression that he was surprised by the revelation.

Taking it as a good sign, he continue, "Look, Bobby and I want to help, but we can't do that, if you don't talk to us. There is no shame in being depressed, it's not something that's just in your head, it's a real disease and that's why you're taking meds for it."

"Yeah right, like they're doing anything." Although only slightly above a whisper, the older man had no problem understanding the words.

"You have to give it time; those things don't work right away." He tried to encourage the other hunter.

Suddenly getting up, Sam strode over to the wall, leaning his head against it, "Give it time, be patient, it's gonna get better… It's always the same line." His initially toneless voice slowly started to pick up in volume and anger, "I can't live like this anymore."

Dean followed him and laying his hand on his shoulder, he kept his voice even, as he said, "I understand that you're frustrated…"

"You understand? How could you? I don't even understand." Still bracing his head against the wall, he started to quiver, his hands forming into fists as his tension increased.

"Okay, so maybe I don't understand, but I'm with you all the way, no matter how tough things will get."

Without warning the younger man turned and grabbed Dean by digging both his hands into the other's shirt. His face distorted by rage, he shouted, "I told you to keep your nose out of my life. I'm sick and tired of you, why can't you just leave me alone?"

Letting go of him, he walked away, just to be stopped by the older man stepping around him. A guttural scream escaped his throat and before Dean could do anything, Sam's fist hit the right sight of his face. Thrown backwards, he fell onto the small table serving as a desk. The thin wood breaking under his weight, he hit the ground with a loud crash, his senseless body coming to rest in the remnants of the table.

This was the scene revealing itself to Dr. Finch and Bobby, as they stepped into the room. Overcoming her dread first, the female doctor ran to Dean, kneeling down beside him. She didn't have to search to notice the bluish discoloration that was making an appearance on his right cheek.

Calling out to the salvage man, she said, "Can you help me turn him?"

Being beside her in a second, Bobby looked at her for instructions.

"I want to stabilize his neck and back as much as possible, when we move him. He could have fractured something."

Together they rolled the unconscious young man to his side, exposing a nasty looking gash on the back of his head. Without a word the older man left and returned with the first aid kit, he retrieved from the bathroom. Opening it, he took out several gauze pads and antiseptic and handed them to the doctor.

Pressing the gauze against the laceration to stop the bleeding, she looked at him, "You would have made a great nurse. Could you put some pressure on this? I want to check his neck and back."

After giving the task of holding the gauze over to him, she started to gently move her hands along Dean's neck then moved on to lifting up his shirt and repeating the action along the rest of his spine. After she finished she let out a relieved sigh, "I think he got lucky, I can't feel anything shifting and there is no bruising and no tenderness either. But I need to check his pupils yet. You wouldn't have a flashlight in there, would you?"

Reaching into the kit, he pulled out a penlight. "Here you go."

Without moving his hand away from the wound, he assisted her in turning Dean on his back again then watched as she checked the reaction of his pupils.

"They are okay, a little sluggish maybe, but I don't think it's too serious. I still need to take him to the hospital though, the laceration needs stitching."

"Nah, no need for that, you can stitch him up right here, let's just get him to the bed."

Dr. Finch knew it should have surprised her, yet it seemed almost natural for the self-sufficient uncle to have even suture supplies available. Biting back a grin, she helped getting Dean to the bed, not an easy task, as they received no help from the injured man. After settling him, she sat down to regain her breath, before starting to clean the edges of the laceration, while Bobby continued holding Dean's head. Satisfied that the bleeding had almost stopped, she couldn't help but think about just how lucky the young man had been. This could have been so much worse. It only worried her that Sam…

Her head jerked up and she looked at Bobby in terror. What she saw reflected his eyes made her realize that her thoughts must have projected to him, however this would even be possible, because she saw the same terror she felt reflected there. In their panic over seeing Dean injured, they had completely forgotten about his brother.

Shooting to her feet and turning in the same motion, Dr. Finch expected to find the other side of the room empty, yet to her complete astonishment, Sam was still standing there, almost exactly as he had stood, when they first came in. The only difference was that now he was staring intently at his fist, the same with which he hit his brother.

Recognizing the young man was in a state of shock, she took her time to approach him, keeping her voice even and gentle as she talked to him, "Sam, are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?"

She came to a standstill, when she was directly in front of him, but not too close to pose a threat. The young hunter still hadn't move, yet as soon as she reached out for his hand to assess it for any damage he pulled it away and backed up until the wall prevented him from going any farther.

"It's alright Sam; I'm not going to hurt you, I'm just trying to look at your hand. I promise I will be careful."

"Dean…" It wasn't really a spoken word, rather it was a whiff floating of the lips of a lost soul so laden, it brought tears to the experienced physician's eyes.

"He is going to be alright, I promise!" She assured him, hoping to pull him out of his shell. Instead he slipped down the side of the wall. Pulling his knees up to his chest, he wrapped his arms around them and buried his face in them.

She looked back at Bobby, who was still at Dean's side, silently asking for help. It didn't happen often that she didn't know what to do. The salvage yard man shrugged obviously just as stunned as she was, but then said, "Let's get this one fixed up first, I keep an eye on the kid."

Seeing the wisdom in his words, she returned to the bed and continued to prep the wound, before closing it with fifteen sutures. She was glad that throughout the procedure the oldest Winchester didn't make one attempt to wake up. She would have hated to cause the young man any further pain, than what he already would suffer, as soon as he would come to.

It didn't take him long though, to make his way back to consciousness after she completed the last stitch. Slightly confused, but amazingly clear green eyes looked up at her and Bobby, before gazing around the room. Not finding what they were looking for, panic became visible in them and anticipating his next move, the older hunter put his hands on Dean's shoulders, effectively holding him down in the pillows, when he attempted to sit up.

"You need to stay down." He said gently, yet forcefully enough to get his point across.

"Sam…?"

"He is safe; don't worry about him right now?" Bobby assured him.

"Do you remember what happened?"

"Dr. Finch?" There was slight confusion in the older Winchester's voice, which wasn't really surprising, as he didn't know the doctor had come to see them.

"Yeah, I came to see Sam." She responded, "So, what do you remember?"

"I tried to talk to Sam, about him sleepwalking again you know. And we argued, he got mad, I mean really mad, not just a little bit. It was more like out of control rage and then he hit me. After that…." He didn't finish the sentence, but he didn't have to, as the other two already knew the rest.

Dr. Finch frowned, this didn't completely fit in which the diagnosis of depression, but at the moment she couldn't quite place it. She would have to think about this, maybe do some research.

"So where is Sam?" This time Dean's voice left no doubt that he wanted an answer.

"He is right over there on the floor." Bobby helped him scoot up and lean against the headboard, while the doc adjusted a pillow behind his head.

Looking at his kid brother sitting against the wall, curled up so small, it seemed impossible this was the same 6'4" giant he knew, Dean was on his feet, before either Dr. Finch or Bobby could hold him back. Almost losing his balance when dizziness hit him, he held on to the woman, who immediately had jumped up to support him.

"Dean, you need to sit down!"

"I need to check on Sammy!" He said with determination, glad when Bobby moved to his other side and assisted him to where his brother was sitting on the floor.

Letting himself down onto his knees, he put his hand on Sam's left arm, "You okay kiddo?"

For a moment he waited patiently for an answer, only when he received none, did he go on, "Sammy, it's alright kiddo, I'm here. It takes more than a little punch to hurt me."

Still not getting a response, he looked up at the other two¸ before trying again, "Look, I'm not mad at

You, I probably deserved getting hit. Maybe not for this, but I'm sure for some other time, so don't worry."

There was still no movement from the younger man, other than the slight lifting and falling of his shoulders with every breath he took. His concern starting to grow to almost unknown heights, Dean gave it one more attempt, "Sammy, I forgive you, just please look at me!"

Desperate to see his little brother's hazels, he put his hands on each side of his head and gently lifted it up. He let out a breath of relief at seeing the blue-green orbs open, but gasped, when he took in the emptiness that was living in them. There was no sign of recognition or that the other was even aware of his presence.

His head moving to the side, he looked up at the doctor and Bobby, searching for answers.

"Dammit, what's going on here?"

TBC

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_So, how was it? Did you like it or was it too cliché? Let me know. Hugs, Vonnie_


	34. Chapter 34

_Now that I'm finished posting the three chapters of Wind of Change, here is the next chapter of this one. Hope you will enjoy it. _

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Rage was building inside him, he could feel it starting up deep down, rippling outwards like a wave. His head still leaning against the wall, he felt a quiver roll through him, making him curl his hands into fists in an attempt to keep it in, yet the more resistance it met, the more strength it gained. He could sense the loss of control, could feel it overtaking him, like a tsunami would overtake a small boat, swallowing it like it never existed.

Before he knew it or even prevent it from happening, he found himself turning around, his hands digging into the lapels of Dean's shirt and a voice that came from inside him, but used words, he would never use, at least not on his brother, shouted, "I told you to keep your nose out of my life. I'm sick and tired of you, why can't you just leave me alone?"

Just like that, he felt control return to him and he let go, driven by the urge to get away, before anything else happened. What was wrong with him, did he really almost hurt his brother just now?

At exactly that moment the same brother he needed to get away from, chose to step in front of him. And just like that it ended. Any command he had over his actions was lost, as anger, greater than anything he ever experienced before, burst out from the darkest corners of his self, like lava bursting from a volcano, the ensuing explosion of his vision blinding him. When his sight returned, his brother was lying on the floor in the middle of a broken table and two figures hurried by him.

The emptiness, which started to cover his mind like a white fog that crept into every corner of his being, was so complete, didn't allow for him to make sense of the events playing out before him. He watched them, yet it was like listening to a radio program in a foreign language. Only after what seemed like an eternity, did the realization dawn on him that Dean was hurt and Bobby and Dr. Finch were trying to help him.

Dean was hurt…How did this happen? Only a second ago he was standing in front of him. A deep, stinging pain seared through his hand and lifting it up to his face, he noticed it was curled into a fist, a few tiny bruises starting to show, where his knuckles made contact with his brother's jawbone. And that's when he understood, well his mind understood, as his heart was still in denial, unable to believe that he would do this to Dean.

He continued to stare in shock at the fist that hit his brother, incapable of any movement, just staring, time going by without touching him, meaningless, endless, fleeting.

A gently voice coming out of nowhere spoke to him and he became aware of a presence in front of him. Still paralyzed, the touch of a hand to his fist startled him to live, making him pull away; shift backwards, until he felt resistance.

"It's alright Sam; I'm not going to hurt you, I'm just trying to look at your hand. I promise I will be careful."

This time he understood. Dr. Finch, she knew, she helped his brother. He needed to know too then he could leave. Not that he wanted to, but he was dangerous, he turned into Cain and if he didn't leave, Dean would become Able.

'Am I my brother's keeper?' The answer was clear, 'Yes, I am!'

But first he had to know.

Using everything he had, he screamed, hoping she would hear him, knowing as the words came out that it couldn't be more than a whisper to her.

"Dean…"

From far away he heard her answer, her words bringing him momentary relief in the darkness of his despair.

"He is going to be alright, I promise!"

Dean was going to be okay, but in order to keep it this way, he had no choice. Turning, he started to run, at first hesitant and slow, picking up in speed the further he got away, as his run became more determined and steady. Deep, deep into the desert he fled, down where even the joyful light from one side and the almost peaceful darkness from the other weren't visible. He didn't deserve either of them, only the torturous grey bareness of the desert was good enough for someone like him.

His body, curled up against the wall, was nothing more than an empty shell now, functioning, yet without soul and heart.

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It had been several hours since they discovered Sam had gone into a state of catatonia. By now the youngest Winchester was lying on his bed, appearing more comfortable, yet still wasn't moving or responding to anything. Dean was horrified by the state his brother was in. Not that his prior condition had been great, far from it, but at least he had been alive. What he saw now was more like an empty shell, than like the little brother he knew and loved. It scared him, no scared wasn't a strong enough word, it outright terrified him was more like it.

He still couldn't figure out, what had caused Sam to become so enraged that he hit him. This just wasn't like his brother, who would walk away from a fight whenever he could. Sure, he had seen the younger man angry and in fights before, but not without a good reason and their 'talk' shouldn't have given him one. Okay, so maybe it had been a reason to get angry, but never for this. The rage had come out of nowhere and now Sam had retreated deep inside himself, seemingly unreachable for anyone.

Dean took a deep breath, "Look Sammy, I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm not gonna let you do this. You don't just get to run away and leave me behind. I'll find you, no matter where you're at and when I do, I'll bring you back here and we really talk."

Grateful that Bobby had moved his bed as close as possible to Sam's, he settled back into the pillow. This way he could keep track of his brother, even when he was sleeping. And although it wasn't really what he wanted, still suffering the steady company of the headache from hell, he knew he needed to rest, if he was going to be of any use to Sammy.

Put his arm across his brother's chest and allowed himself to drift off to sleep with the certainty that even the slightest move from the2 other would instantly wake him.

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Initially Dr. Finch had insisted on taking Sam to the hospital, but finally she had given in to Dean's argument that if his little brother was going to come back, he needed to be here, in familiar surroundings and not in a sterile hospital environment. Knowing how close the brothers were and that if anybody could help Sam, it would be Dean, there was really no better option.

But first she had to find out what was going on. Her best resource would be the computer in her office, but as she wasn't willing to leave, she made do with Bobby's slightly outdated desktop. Knowing where to look, it didn't take her long to find the site she was searching for. Reading through it, she stopped suddenly, letting a gasp out.

"How could I not have seen that?" She called, startling Bobby, who was washing dishes, out of the kitchen.

"You found something?" He asked, hope coloring his voice.

"Yeah, I did and I feel like an idiot for not thinking about it right away." She said with resignation, before continuing with an explanation, "I think it's the prednisone Sam is taking that's causing his mood swings and the rage."

"You mean he doesn't suffer from depression?"

"No, that's not what I said. I'm sure he has some depression, but it wouldn't be half as bad as it is, if it wasn't for the prednisone. I think, what threw me off, was the severity of the mood swings and the rage, as it is usually something that we see more with anabolic steroids, which are illegal. What Sam is experiencing is actually more of a hypersensitivity reaction and that's fairly rare." She explained.

"So let's take him off it then!" The salvage man stated.

"I wish it was that easy." The female doctor buried her face in her hands for a moment, before looking up again, "First of all, it could cause rejection of the kidney, if we take him off it without replacing it with anything else. Second it would most certainly cause withdrawal symptoms and throw his body into a sudden lack of glucosteroids. They are usually produced in the adrenal glands attached the kidneys, but when patients are on artificial steroids, the body starts to make less, sometimes none at all. That's why we usually withdraw them slowly, so the body can get used to it and start making them again. A total lack of those steroids can cause a lot of problems, the worst of which would be sudden death."

Bobby stared at her, suddenly realizing that once again finding the reason for the problem didn't necessarily meant having the solution. Damn, why couldn't things ever be easy?

Like she was reading his mind, Dr. Finch said, "Don't worry, I'm going to call Dr. Carmichael. He can help us figure out what to replace the prednisone with, so we can start weaning him off it. And I also will call Nurse Jo and fill her in what happened, I'm sure she will be more than happy to help out until Sam is back on his feet."

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By the time Bobby was ready to serve dinner, the doc was ready to share some more information. As getting Dean to leave his brother for more than a trip to the bathroom had proven to be impossible, it was decided to bring the food upstairs, so they could share the meal and at the same time listen to the news she had to tell them. The hunter had brought in a folding table to temporarily replace the broken one and now was setting up plates and silverware, while Dr. Finch was bringing up the stew he prepared.

Sitting down at the table, Dean rubbed his hand over his face, causing Bobby to throw him a worried look.

"How's your head?"

"Much better, just got a little dizzy when I stood up, but it's gone now." The older Winchester stated slightly uncomfortable, he really didn't want to talk about himself right now, "Did you find out anything new?"

After giving him a critical inspection and obviously feeling satisfied with what she saw, the doctor brought him up to speed on what she had told Bobby earlier, giving Dean some time to ask questions after she finished. As she suspected, the young man wasn't satisfied with her explanation.

"So why didn't the other doc come up with this, isn't he more specialized in this area than you are?"

She looked at him for a moment, trying to find the right words to not upset him. In the end she decided it was best to just be straight with him, "Dr. Freeman is a specialist and he is really great at interpreting lab and other test results, but I'm sorry to say that reading people and symptoms that are not necessarily identifiable by tests, isn't one of his strong points. That's the reason, why Nurse Susan, who transferred from the ICU to work for his office, came to me in the first place. She has a lot of experience and just felt that he might be missing something."

Anger started to rise in Dean and he could tell by the look on Bobby's face that the older man felt the same way.

"So how come this guy is allowed to practice?" He bit his tongue to hold back the other, more nasty words he wanted to use.

"Look, I'm really not trying to defend him, but a lot of those things come with experience and most younger specialists go to big cities and large clinics, where they can work with several more experienced docs. There in itself lies the problem. We are a relatively small hospital in a fairly small town. Not many people want to come here, especially not when they are young and are not bound down by having a family. So getting him this fast as a replacement for the doc that retired was pure luck and if Dr. Sangha wouldn't have died, we would have had another guy in that office he could go to for advice."

"Yeah well, that's not helping Sam though!" Dean growled.

Dr. Finch ignored the growl, choosing instead to pick up on the desperation in it, "I know, but I have good news. At first I had some problems contacting Dr. Carmichael, but I finally got a hold of him on his personal cell phone. He is vacationing with his family out in Montana. I filled him in and asked him to make some recommendations. Instead he said he would be here tomorrow morning and check on Sam."

"Really?" The older brother was hard pressed to believe someone would actually care enough to do this for his brother.

"Really and believe me, the guy is not just the best in his field, he is also a great guy. If you still doubt this after what you seen from him, than I feel a sorry for you." She scolded him halfheartedly, knowing very well how distressed the young man sitting across from her truly was.

"Sorry, it's just…" He let his head hang.

"Don't worry about it, I understand." She smiled at him. "He did tell me to give Sam only half of the usual dose of prednisone tomorrow morning."

"Oh, that reminds me; I got him to drink a glass of water earlier." Dean sounded slightly excited, before sadness came through again, "I had to try really hard though and massage his neck in the beginning, so he would swallow. But at least it's something."

He looked at the female doctor with so much hope, that she didn't have the heart to take the wind out of his sails by telling him that even comatose and dementia patients could be given food and liquids without them having any awareness of what they were doing, as it was a fairly rudimentary task that didn't need any conscious thought.

"Yes, it is. Don't worry, Sam is going to come back, we'll do everything we can to make sure." She smiled, taking a spoonful of her stew, "Wow, this is good. It's been a while since I had a homemade meal. I mostly live on takeout or frozen meals."

"Yeah, Bobby is a decent cook, almost as good as me." Dean grinned.

"Watch it boy," The older man grumbled, "The only thing you can make is scrambled eggs and maybe steaks and burgers on the barbecue."

"Yeah so, is there anything else a guy needs to eat?"

Dr. Finch shook her head; once again it amazed her, how these men managed to help each other with their banter. But it was obviously something that had to do with the close bond this small family had.

"By the way, I called Nurse Jo and she is going to come over in a couple of hours. She would be on the next five nights and I made arrangement that she can do private duty for Sam until he gets better."

"Is this really necessary?" Bobby wondered.

"Maybe not, but I think all of us would feel better, including Jo. Dr. Carmichael recommended starting Sam on some anti-anxiety meds to try and help him relax."

"Okay, now you lost me!" Dean looked at her without understanding, "My brother is in a state of catatonia and you guys want to give him something to make him relax?"

"I understand your confusion, but let me explain." She said calmly, "You've got to think about the reason, why Sam is in this state. He was extremely agitated and angry. The mood swings the steroids caused are not gone because of his catatonia. He essentially made himself go into it to protect you and everyone else around him from this rage. So the way to help him is to try and get him to relax. Hopefully the meds will do that for him. If he doesn't feel so angry, he might be more willing to come out again."

"Are you…"

She interrupted him, before he could finish, "No, I'm not saying that he is doing this consciously. He doesn't have any control over this. He is guided by his subconscious here and I hope that you will be able to get through to him, as soon as he is calm enough."

The sad look she received from the deep green orbs brought her close to crying. This boy could do the puppy dog almost as well as his younger brother. This only increased her determination to assure that a certain pair of hazels would soon be in competition with them once again, even if she would have to turn the world around to accomplish her goal.

TBC

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Hope this was alright for you guys. Let me know what you think. Hugs, Vonnie 


	35. Chapter 35

_Sorry for the delay, real live has be a little bit unkind and kept me from writing, but I'm back now. Hope you guys enjoy and thanks for all the support. I know I missed replying to some of you, so thanks to all of you and I'm really sorry. Hugs, Vonnie_

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Dean was sitting beside his brother, pressing a piece of gauze against the spot on his arm, where Nurse Jo had taken a few tubes of blood a few minutes ago. There had been a phone call from Dr. Carmichael very early this morning giving orders for several lab tests, he wanted to be ready by the time he would get there. Now the nurse was on her way back to town, where she was going to drop the blood off at the lab, before returning back home to get some sleep.

Although the older Winchester had been certain they wouldn't need Jo's, or anyone else's help for that matter, to help out with Sam, he now had to confess that the woman had been a godsend. She had convinced Bobby and him to go to sleep, even though both men had fought her on it. It had been like a remake of what happened at the hospital, as the nurse had known exactly what buttons she needed to push. Feeling less tired today and left with only a distant throb in his head, Dean had to confess he was grateful for her no nonsense attitude. Sam needed him and now he felt up to doing everything he needed to get his brother back from wherever he was.

Holding the gauze tight against the puncture site, he looked at Sam, his seemingly slack body and couldn't help but notice a certain tension. It was not that obvious, but yet it was clearly noticeable to any trained observer. It surprised the older Winchester and for a moment he was wondering, if his brother was going to wake up. Not noticing any change though, his next thought was, if it could be a sign of pain or other discomfort. Yet he threw this out also, as he felt there would be some other symptoms then just slight tension. Yet maybe Sammy didn't retreat as far as he initially thought? The only way to find out would be to try and reach him. It scared the young man more than he would ever admit to even try, as he was sure he wouldn't be able to take another disappointment. Still, he had to at least make an attempt.

Picking up one of the younger man's listless hands, he almost stuttered as he started to talk, "I…ahem, I…" Finally finding his groove, he started over, "Damn it Sammy, don't leave me sitting here stuttering, you know how much I hate this. It wasn't your fault, I mean what happened. Okay, so you hit me, but really, it wasn't you, it was the medication that made you do it. Something about steroid rage, but if you want to know exactly what happened, you'll have to talk to the doc, she is the one, who figured it out." He took a deep breath, knowing he was probably rambling, "Look kiddo, all I'm saying is, I need you here and you're really not protecting anyone by running away."

SN SN SN SN SN

He felt scared, terrified really of being discovered. It was a fear that paralyzed him almost as much as the one of hurting his brother again. For a short while he had found something almost close to peace in this harsh, merciless environment. Maybe it had been the knowledge that he couldn't hurt anyone out here, yet it had lasted only for a little time, until the voice had started. It was too far away to understand any of the words, yet not far enough to not hear, who it belong to. He would know it anyway, even if it would be only a whisper in the wind and it was the very voice, he feared the most right now. Not because the person it belonged to would hurt him, no, he was more than certain that hurting him was the last thing on his brother's mind, it rather was because he knew he was going to hurt Dean again. He had done it once and he needed to make sure, it would never happen again.

The terror, which had initially paralyzed him, now spurned him on, made him run, run through the rocky, dried out desert terrain, run until he couldn't run no more and then continue on for a while longer, until at last the voice was no longer audible. His legs giving out, his lungs no longer able to keep up with the need for air, he collapsed, ineffectively panting for oxygen, his mind unable to hold on to a single though, except the one that had caused him to flee and which had kept him going till now, 'Save Dean, save Dean, save….'

SN SN SN SN SN

The second the slight tension in his brother's features eased, was also the second Dean knew he had failed. Sam had retreated further, was now even more unreachable than before. Squeezing the hand bigger than his own, feeling the long fingers, usually just apt to fly over a computer key board, as they were to give comfort, like they were equally designed for either purpose, he felt anguish beyond any he ever felt before. He could almost see the twilight surrounding him. It was a gray beyond hope, not a darkness, which would leave hope for the next sunrise, nor a too bright light of day, giving room to anticipate the peaceful darkness of night.

For some time he just sat motionless, trying to find his way out, incapable to get away from the incredible sadness, unable to comprehend what was happening to him and then in a flash it was over and he could think clearly again. It was at exactly that moment that he realized what he experienced hadn't been his own emotions, but rather the ones of his brother.

Almost overwhelmed by the knowledge, he suddenly became conscious of the state of mind his brother was in. Seeing the depths of the younger one's dejection only increased the urgency of getting him back, yet it also made him appreciate something else, something even more important. No matter how far Sam was going to run, he would find him, would get to him and bring him back, because nothing could stop him now that he'd been so close.

SN SN SN SN SN

Bobby entered the bedroom with both doctors in tow. He would never have thought, he could feel so relieved at the sight of a mere human, as he felt right now, but especially Dr. Carmichael carried the hope of getting Sam back to him and this was something that the old salvage man would be willing to give both his legs for and more. He could see it on Dean's face that the firstborn Winchester felt the same or at least close to it, yet he also saw something more there, something that had been missing just a few hours ago and that was determination.

After greeting the young man, the transplant specialist went right on to giving his patient a methodical check up. After what seemed like forever, but in reality were only a few minutes, he stepped back. Seeing the expectation with which the two other men were looking at him, he smiled, knowing that even though the situation was serious, he would be able to bring some hope into it.

"I think Dr. Finch was on the right track with her diagnosis of steroid induced rage. I looked over Sam's lab results on the way here from the hospital and they show no signs of rejection. The kidney is working at optimum level but his white count is way down, which means he is extremely susceptible to any kind of infection right now. So I'm going to start him on some IV antibiotics that will hopefully protect him. I also looked at the results of the last few blood tests prior to this one and to increase the prednisone was the worst thing they could have done. There was nothing wrong, other than he probably had a slight cold or something, bringing his count up a little higher, than we usually like it to be. By increasing it at that time it suppressed his immune system more than we would want to and at the same time worsened the reaction, he already had to the medication."

"Son of a …" Dean stopped, when he felt Bobby's hand on his shoulder. Thankful for his fatherly friend's presence, he collected himself and continued in a slightly more settled tone, "So what are we gonna do now?"

"We take him of the prednisone completely and start him on dexamethasone instead."

"And that will work?" The older Winchester asked with doubt in his voice.

"Yeah, it should, I have seen very few cases that have the same reaction to both drugs. Still, I will start him on a small dose; just enough to make sure he won't go into artificial induced Addison's."

It was at this point that Dr. Finch chipped in, "Addison's is what I was talking about before, when I told you that the adrenal glands produce too little or no glucosteroids."

Remembering well what the kind physician told them the day before, neither asked any questions, as both of them refused to take in consideration that another complication might happen to their youngest. Instead Dean stepped forward and sat down beside his motionless brother, reaching out with his hand to push some stray strands of the other;s chocolate colored locks out of his face, he didn't even look up, when he asked, "When are you gonna start?"

Dr. Carmichael grinned, not having expected anything less, "I got everything right here."

He lifted up a cooler and another slightly bigger case and put them on the empty bed. Opening the cooler first, he pulled out a clear plastic bag containing a small cassette, filled with a clear liquid. Continuing with the bigger case, it revealed something that looked like a box, yet at looking closer, Dean could see that it had several buttons and a small LCD screen.

"It's called a CAT Pump, it's a small IV pump, made to deliver medication just like the big ones at the hospital and it doesn't need a pole, unless you would use large amount of fluids, thus making the patient more independent." The surgeon looked at the older brother, who still had to take his eyes off the younger one, once again getting a glimpse of the special relationship the two of them had. It was visible in the intensity with which Dean held on to the other's hand and the in the way his eyes were glued to Sam's slack body, observing every breath. It increased the urgency he felt to help his patient even more.

Finally getting his mind back on track, he continued, "I know the independent part isn't really needed right now, but this pump can be programmed and run the meds in over an extended period of time and that's what I'm looking for. Right now I want Sam to have a small dose that is infused over 24 hours and this is the ideal device for it. We also will be able to hook him up to the antibiotics I was talking about, without interrupting delivery of the dexamethasone."

"Is this going to bring the boy out of the state he is in?" For the first time Bobby threw out a question of his own, yet it was one that he knew was on Dean's heart also.

There was a short pause during which Dr. Carmichael considered his answer, knowing very well how important it was going to be.

"No, that's up to him, but it will give him a fighting chance, because he will no longer be on the medication that caused him to retreat into the catatonia."

"Okay, fair enough!" Dean turned to face the doc, "So you do your stuff and I will do the rest, because it doesn't matter where Sammy is right now, I gonna find him and I gonna bring him back no matter what it takes."

SN SN SN SN SN

The rest of the day went by without any change. After the two docs prepped the IV pump and connected Sam to it, both of them went on to talk about keeping their young patient on the anti-anxiety medication he was started on last night. One more time Dr. Finch explained the reason behind it, although Dean assured her, he perfectly understood and had no problem with it.

After checking on Sam again, the physicians took their leave, but not before Dr. Carmichael made them promise to call the moment there was any change. The involved surgeon had decided to stay for another few days; wanting to make sure he had complete control over his patient's treatment and could change things around in the time it took to push a button. Although he trusted Dr. Finch explicitly, both of them knew that the female surgeon didn't have the experience in his field to make decisions without consulting him. At first he had felt bad about interrupting his time with his family, but then he knew they would understand and he would make it up to them by extending their vacation for another week. He owed them some more time anyway and there was no doubt in his mind that his other patients back home were in good hands with his two partners.

Finally alone with his giant little brother again, Bobby was walking the docs out, Dean took hold of one of his hands again. Watching the usually so expressive face not showing any emotions at all was almost more than he could bear. Between this and the pallor of his skin Sam would have looked like he was dead already, if it wouldn't have been for the occasional blinking of his eyes.

Dr. Finch had told him that it wasn't unusual for catatonic patients to have their eyes open and at times to even move. Many of them would eat when fed and even stand up and walk, so it didn't surprise the older Winchester to see the lids open and close again. It was the dullness of the hazel orbs that disturbed him more than anything, yet the longer he sat and looked at them, the more he came to the conclusion that they weren't really empty. There was something more, something so distant that even he had trouble to spot it and only because he knew Sam since he'd been a baby, knew him better than he ever knew his father or even himself, was he finally able find the small spark there. It really wasn't even a spark; it was too dim and minute to be called that. If he would have to describe it, he would maybe call it the smallest particle of a spark, yet just like experiencing his brother's emotions earlier; it was enough to feed the glowing embers of hope in him, increasing them to a small flame that could only grow the longer it was exposed to the oxygen of his brotherly love and protectiveness.

TBC

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_Oh wow, I hope this wasn't too sugary for you, my muse ran a little away with me here. Hope you like it anyway. Let me know. Hugs, Vonnie_


	36. Chapter 36

_Hope you all had a great weekend. Here is the next chapter._

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Dean was finally taking a break. Since Dr. Carmichael had started Sam on the new meds the day before, the young man had refused to leave his brother's side for more than a few minutes. Not even Nurse Jo had been able to convince him to at least lie down on his bed, which was only a few feet away from the one the younger man was in. In the end it had taken Bobby to finally put his foot down and threaten to have Dr. Finch sedate him, before the firstborn Winchester had given in. It hadn't been without a lot of grumbling though, none of which the older hunter had been able to make out and for which he had been more than grateful, as it certainly hadn't been compliments that had been coming from Dean's lips.

While the junk yard owner now sat with the catatonic younger brother, the older one had gone downstairs to eat some of the lunch his friend had prepared and to take a nap on the couch. Taking a deep breath, Bobby leaned forward to get a closer look at the young man in the bed. Right now Sam's eyes were closed and his features relaxed, reminding the old hunter of the many occasions he had watched him or his brother sleep, when they stayed here, while their father went on a hunt without them. Sure, it had been a while, but looking at Sam now, it seemed like no further away than yesterday.

For some reason it seemed like one of the boys, sometimes even both, chose to get sick as soon as John had turned and was out of reach. It would be up to Bobby then, to take care of them. Sure, if only one of them got it, the other would insist he could take care of his brother and Dean would usually do a pretty good job at it, yet Sam being four years younger, while doing his best, would never quite be able to do it without help. Not that their surrogate father had minded, he loved the boys and taking care of them, even when sick, was one of his favorite things to do.

Right now Sam looked so much like he had twelve years ago, it made the grizzled hunter wish they actually were back to that time.

Shaking his head, he ran his hand across his face and grumbled, "Getting to be quite the sentimental fool in your old age."

He sat up a little straighter, yet never let his eyes move away from the young man's face. Adjusting his grungy baseball cap, he suddenly started to speak, "Kid, I have no idea what you are doing or where your mind is right now, but if you can hear me, you have to listen to me. I know you think you hurt your brother, well yeah, you did, but that's nothing compared to what he is going through now. He might be all macho on the outside, but believe it or not, he needs you just as much as you need him, maybe even more."

He paused for a moment then continued, "If you heard that, you better don't tell him I told you, because he is going to deny it all the way. You know how he is."

SN SN SN SN SN

He was leaning against a bolder, his eyes closed to shield them from the gloominess of his environment, yet his mind's eye only played more of the same to him. He couldn't escape it and he was sure he wasn't supposed to, as it was exactly what he deserved. Still, the grumbling voice he heard from the distance suddenly was a welcome distraction. It was too far off to understand any of the words, yet he had no difficulty to recognize the owner.

For a minute he just listened, enjoying the familiarity and comfort, while at the same time feeling a mild pressure in his chest. The longer he listened, the less comfort he felt, the more intense grew the heaviness, finally turning into a stabbing that felt like it went straight through his heart, leaving him gasping, as he pressed both hands against his chest. Only when the voice stopped and silence surrounded him once again, did the pain go back to the mild pressure that had been there in the beginning.

Clearing his mind, it slowly started to dawn on him that it had been the voice, which had caused the pain. It had awakened a longing in him, one so intense, it was almost unbearable. Tears streamed down his face and mixed with the dirt beneath him, when he rolled up in a ball on the ground, trying to make himself as small as possible to contain the need to run again, because he was sure, this time it would be in the direction of home.

SN SN SN SN SN

Dean was back on his brother's side before Dr. Carmichael arrived to check on his patient. The transplant specialist was more than happy with the results of the blood tests, which once again had been drawn by Nurse Jo before she had left that morning. After finishing the thorough check he gave the youngest Winchester, he turned back to the two older men, his face speaking of the disappointment he clearly felt.

"I wish I could tell you something more positive, than that his vital signs are stable and that I don't see any symptoms of infection, but I can't. There are no signs that he is coming out of his catatonic state. His reactions are normal, so that tells me he didn't slip into a coma, but that's about as good as things get."

"Hey, don't worry about it, I told you yesterday that if you do your job, then I will do the rest. I'm gonna bring Sam back." Dean's voice didn't just sound determined this time, it sounded enthusiastic.

His excitement was contagious and Dr. Carmichael had to smile. He had no doubt that the young man in front of him would be able to make good on his promise. He had started to admire the relationship between the two brothers before he had ever met them. What Dr. Finch had told him about the Winchesters had been the reason, why he had taken Sam on as a patient. When he finally had met the two of them, he had been even more impressed. He had almost instantaneously noticed the way they wordlessly communicated with one another and how this communication never seemed to seize. Even if one of them was sleeping or unconscious, the other just had to enter the room for the sleeper to immediately relax. They lifted each other up, picked up on one another's moods and had something that was more than just being family. It was a rare bond that seemed to be unbreakable and would certainly make for an interesting study for any scientist, not that he would ever involve one, as these two young men deserved better than being lab rats for some university study.

He wasn't a psychologist, yet Sam's reaction to hitting his brother only increased his belief in this bond. It was the same thing he had seen in Dean before, there was a protectiveness towards the other that was willing to sacrifice everything, even one's life, to keep the other safe.

"I'm glad you think that way." He said out loud, "Sam is lucky to have you as a brother."

A smile played around the older Winchester's lips, as he answered, "I'm the lucky one here."

SN SN SN SN SN

There was no doubt, how serious Dean was about bringing his brother back, there never had been. Yet now there was a complete shift in his attitude. In the beginning he had been filled with desperation and had gone with begging and trying to entice the younger man to return. Now he was taking it on in the typical Dean Winchester way, with a big portion of cockiness and kick-butt-attitude completed by a slice of "I'm-the-older-one-and-know-better" privilege and all of it wrapped into a thick blanket of brotherly love.

He talked for hours, so much so that any outsider would have thought he was the kind, who liked to hear himself talk. As there was no outsider here though, it left only Bobby and later Nurse Jo to listen and both of them knew that Dean wasn't hearing in own voice. The older hunter and surrogate father knew for a fact that the only thing the older brother was listening for was the voice of his younger sibling.

For the longest time it appeared like there was no change in Sam's catatonic state, at least not from what Bobby could tell. Yet by the time day turned into evening, there was a slight change in the firstborn Winchester's behavior. It seemed that his talk became faster, his words taking on more urgency.

Knowing that he had to be exhausted, Jo was ready to talk him into a break, yet found herself held back by gentle, yet firm hand on her shoulder.

"Let him be, at least for a while longer!" The junk yard owner told her, "I think he sees something we can't. He might be getting close."

The nurse gave him a doubtful look and was ready to argue her point, yet then thought better of it. By now she should be used to strange things happening with those two boys.

Nodding instead, she said, "I'll go downstairs and get some coffee, I could use a cup right now. You want me to bring you some?"

"I'll come with you, it's gonna be a long night." Bobby said, following her into the hallway. He couldn't help but feel that Dean was going to reach his goal before the sun saw a new day.

SN SN SN SN SN

Leaning against a rock, he let his eyes glide over the never-ending gray of his desert hell. He yearned for something different, for warmth or even more for peace, yet he knew he couldn't get either of it. Warmth was something he didn't deserve and from peace, at least as far as his definition of the word went, which was spelled with four letters and drove a gas guzzling black monster that was more of a home to him than any mansion could ever be, he absolutely had to stay away from, no matter how much he was drawn to it.

An eerie silence hung in the air, surrounding him like a thick blanket. He wished for some noise, something to distract him, really anything would do to make this loneliness more bearable. Even the sonic scream of a banshee would be better than this. Yet when his wish suddenly was granted, he wanted nothing more than to take it back again, because even in the initially unintelligible murmur he could identify the sound of his brother's voice without having to second guess himself for even a moment.

Getting up from his resting place, he started to scamper away, his mind overruling his heart's desire to turn into the direction from which the voice came. Picking up the pace, he noticed two things happening at once, first that his body was rotated 180 degrees with a swiftness that almost made him loose his balance, second that almost immediately his feet started to move forward. There was actually a third thing he noticed, worse than any of the first two and that was that he was now running towards the voice at a speed that let it become louder at an alarming speed. Already he could make out certain words.

"…this…not...fault. …need…come back…"

No, no, no, this couldn't be happening; he couldn't go back to Dean, no way. He had to stop this right now.

Putting all his strength into bringing his body to a standstill, he found that he had no control over his legs. Instead of coming to a halt, they actually ran faster, as a matter of fact, by now he was at his top speed and was coming so close that he could see the outline of his brother standing at the border between the green, sunny lands and his personal desert hell.

"That's it…; just a…more …can do…Sammy." He almost could see the encouragement on Dean's face now.

"Nooooooo….!" He threw himself forward, attempting to dig his fingers into the dirt, but finding no purchase in the hard earth.

Dragged ahead on his abdomen, like there was an invisible rope pulling him, he struggled against the unknown force, which took control over his body. He couldn't give up, because giving up would mean hurting, maybe even killing Dean and that was the one thing that couldn't happen. Fighting to roll over and when this didn't work, lifting his legs as high of the ground as possible instead, he brought them down with all the power he had left in an effort to hammer his booted feet into the ground, hoping this would be enough to stop from moving. To no avail though, no matter what, he continued to move forward.

"Don't fight it, Sammy." Dean was clearly visible now, his green eyes full with anticipation, his arms stretched out, ready to receive his baby brother into them.

"No, no, please don't, you don't understand, I can't be with you. I'm dangerous." He put everything into his desperate plea, hoping to convince the other, to make him understand.

With a last sudden jerk, he was drawn over the line, a scream escaping his throat as his brother's arms engulfed him.

SN SN SN SN SN

He was hearing him, the older Winchester could tell at the shiver that went through his brother's lanky body.

"Sam, listen to me, this is not your fault. I need you to come back, you hear me?" He hurried to say, watching for a reaction.

Seeing the tension increase, he continued, "That's it kiddo, just a little bit more, I know you can do this, Sammy."

The younger man's body convulsed on the bed, his eyes tightly squeezed shut, his hands clinched into fist so tight, the knuckle turned white. His lips were moving and although there was no sound coming from them, it was not difficult for Dean to hear the soundless "no, no, please don't".

"Don't fight it, Sammy." He encouraged, his arms suddenly open and stretched out in a gesture he didn't even know he was making.

With an abrupt jerk the youngest Winchester's upper body bolted to a sitting position, his eyes flying open and his hands moved up towards his face. A scream tore from his throat, so desperate; it made tears flow down the older brother's cheeks. Stretching forward a little further, he wrapped his arms around Sam, tightly embracing his little brother's shaking body, just as he used to do when they were kids.

"It's going to be okay, Sammy, I promise!"

TBC

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_So Sam is back, at least that's what it looks like. Let me know what you think and thanks for sticking with me. Hugs, Vonnie_


	37. Chapter 37

_I told some of you I would try to have the next chapter up by the weekend. Well I wasn't sure, but I made it. Hope you like it. _

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Holding on to the quivering body of his brother, listening to the sobs coming from him, Dean couldn't help being overwhelmed with joy. It seemed wrong to feel this way about the pain and tears of someone, especially if it was someone you cared about, yet he just couldn't make himself feel any other way, as tears and pain were signs that his brother was back. As a matter of fact it would have been all levels of wrong for him to respond in any other way. So his own tears were ones of relief and happiness and there wasn't even one trace of guilt on his mind over it.

Giving the younger man a few minutes, he finally loosened his grip and put his hands on both sides of Sam's face. Gently he lifted his head up, until their eyes met, pausing for a moment, not quite sure what to say, before his heart took over.

"Sammy…, God, little brother, I was so scared you would never come back!"

Unprepared for what happened next, he felt himself pushed back, almost losing his balance and falling off the bed, when Sam suddenly came to live and scrambled up against the headboard.

"No, no, no… why…? I can't… Nooo, no…I can't be here!"

Confusion, fear and something almost like anger were written on the tearstained face of the younger man. Once again sobs shook his body, small trails of moisture running down his cheeks like rivers, his orbs, shining almost black with tears and sadness, were hanging on Dean's deep green ones with an intensity that almost tore the older brother apart. Wanting, no needing to make it better, to take away the deep anguish he could see in Sam's eyes, Dean opened his mouth then closed it again, still searching for the right words. If he wanted to help his little brother, he couldn't mess up. He had to do this right on the first try, but how?

"Why…why did you do it? Why did you bring me back?" Sam pushed out between sobs, "I hit you… God, I hit you…" His shaking increased, yet this time it was fed by anxiety, his next words almost overturning one another, as they were tumbling out of him.

"I-have-to-get-out-of-here-can't-hurt-you-again-I'm-dangerous"

As he attempted to scramble of the bed, Dean made a quick move forward. Laying his hands on the other's shoulders, he firmly, yet gently pushed him back down, never letting go, as he said, "Why, you want to know why I brought you back? Because you are not just my brother, you are my best friend."

He stopped and took in the stunned, almost comical look on the younger ones face, knowing exactly what was going on in Sam's head at this very moment, before the meaning of the words would sink in. After all, what came out of his mouth just a second ago was so pure chick flick, it couldn't get any purer. He enjoyed the slow transition to one of disbelieve, as understanding started to dawn.

"B…but I…I hurt you…badly."

"You did!" Dean knew it wouldn't make sense to deny it, "But it was the medication making you do it, not your free will. And even if it would have been you, do you really think I wouldn't forgive you?"

There was a long minute of silence.

"I know you would!" Sam's voice was full trust, when he spoke again, before changing to fear, "I might kill you, if I stay."

"No you won't!"

"How do you know?" The question was loaded just as much with hope, as it was with doubt.

"Because I know YOU," He looked at his brother, leaving no doubt he was serious, "I know you would never hurt me or anyone else on purpose. And don't tell me it's not true, you even give the monsters we hunt the benefit of a doubt. If it was up to you, you would question them first. If I think about it, I have seen you do it before, try to reason with some of the spirits, I mean."

There was a small smirk on Dean's face and even though Sam didn't mirror it, he didn't sob anymore either. Red rimmed eyes, a moment ago too dark to distinguish any color other than black, now started to show a slight sparkle of their usual hazel. It wasn't much, but it was a first step, enough to satisfy the firstborn brother for now. He reached Sam, brought him back and convinced him to stay; the rest would come with time.

"Bathroom?" He asked, changing the subject.

Getting a nod from the younger man, he took the small bag with the IV pump and hung it over his shoulder. Reaching out, he pulled his brother to his feet and put his arm around his waist. Most other times Sam would have complained and insisted on walking on his own, now though that the adrenaline rush was over; he felt drained and incredibly tired and was grateful for the help offered. Allowing his brother to support part of his weight, he moved alongside the other, glad when they reached the other end of the hallway and with it the bathroom.

Dean guided the younger man into the small room. He could feel the fatigue coming from every one of the other's pores, yet at the same time he could see the pleading in his eyes.

"I'm gonna give you a moment. I'll leave the door cracked and I will be right outside in case you need something." He gave his brother a knowing grin, before he stepped out to leave him to his business.

SN SN SN SN SN

Having decided it was time to check on Sam and make Dean take another break, Jo and Bobby walked up the stairs, surprised by seeing the older Winchester leaning against the wall in front of the bathroom.

"Shouldn't you be with your brother?" The older hunter questioned him.

"I am", He smirked, the expression by itself telling both of them everything they needed to know, even if the following words wouldn't have done it, "He is right in there!" Hearing the toilet flush, he added, "Ah, here is my cue, better get in there."

With those words he opened the door and stepped inside, pulling it shut behind him.

"You okay there?" He asked, taking in the pallor of Sam's skin.

The younger man had closed the lid and now sat on top of it, leaning heavily against the wall.

"M' fine…"

"Sure…" He bit his tongue to keep from saying more, realizing that any kind of sarcasm might be too much for the kid to handle right now. Instead he opted to change the subject, "Let's get your face washed, before you fall over. Anything else can wait till later."

For the lack of a wash cloth, he wet one of the smaller towels with slightly warm water. Expressing the excess liquid, he gently wiped it over his brother's face, taking especially care to clean the corners of his eyes. Repeating the procedure, he smiled at the relaxed expression on Sam's face. At any other time his actions would have met with stubborn resistance. It spoke of tiredness, yet also of the complete contentment the younger man felt at this moment.

Putting the wet one down and reaching for a dry towel instead, Dean hurried to finish, then offered his brother his hand, "Ok, let's go, get you back to bed."

"Kay" Sam looked dead on his feet as he took the offered hand.

This time almost all his weight was on Dean, yet the older man bore it gladly. Opening the door with some effort, he wasn't really surprised to see Bobby waiting them.

"Darn nurse, told me to stay here, while she is putting new sheets on the kid's bed, thought you could use some help!" He grumbled.

The older Winchester grinned, hearing the real meaning in the words, which went kinda like this,  
"I had to wait and make sure the kid is alright. I gladly help you take him back to bed."

Together they half carried the tall younger Winchester back to the room, gently settling him back into his bed. Jo covered him with a fresh sheet and blanket, but as she started to tuck them around the tiredly blinking young man, a quick glance from his brother made her step aside. With a smile on her face she watched as Dean drew the blanket up around Sam's shoulder, making sure his brother was tightly covered, before he almost accidentally pushed his hand through the dark mob of hair.

"Go to sleep Sammy, we can talk more when you wake up. I promise things will be okay. "

Immediately the blinking stopped and the lids settled down on the hazel orbs. Only moments later a soft snoring told him that his baby brother was fast asleep.

"Guess I still got it!" He smiled up at Bobby, who could only nod. It didn't seem to matter if Sam was three or twenty-three, a touch and some reassuring words from his big brother could still put him right to sleep.

Standing up, Dean's face took on a more serious expression. It was clear that something was bothering him and it took only an instant, before he directed his question at the experienced nurse.

"Why is he so tired? I mean I get that he would be kind of tired and weak, but this seems almost extreme. Could he have caught something despite of the antibiotics?" His green eyes were colored dark with worry.

Jo nodded, "I certainly can understand, why you would think that, but don't worry, the explanation is simple. Sam isn't used to the anti-anxiety medication we have been giving him. Although it isn't a very large dose, it still can cause drowsiness, especially in someone, who isn't used to it. I would think he experienced an adrenaline rush when he woke up, which caused him to be very alert, but when it wore off, he was left with nothing and the drug hit him really hard."

Relief flooded the young hunter and even Bobby let out a breath, showing that even though he didn't think about it before, Dean's question dug up some concern in him also.

"So what are we going to do, I don't want Sam to sleep all the time, but at the same time I don't want him to get any of those rage attacks either."

"I think Doc Carmichael will agree with me, if we cut the dose down to about a fourth during the day and maybe a half at night. I don't think we will have to worry about this too much longer anyway. Another week and he should be out of the woods as far as the danger of steroid rage concerns, maybe even sooner."

She put her arm around his shoulder and pulled the stunned hunter into her arms. Hugging him tightly, she could feel the tension seep out of him, as his body relaxed into her arms.

"You did good Dean." She said, gently stroking his hair, "Your parents are proud of you, believe me. I'm a mother and I know these things." Letting go of him, before the moment could become uncomfortable for him, she ruffled his spiky hair, "Now, while I go downstairs to make a few calls, you get ready for bed. I'll bring you some hot tea when I'm done."

"But…" Dean started to complain.

"No buts, you promised Sam to be here when he wakes up, so you lay down in your bed. I'll bring up the small lamp from the desk downstairs. It's a little bright, but I'm sure Bobby has a lower Watt light bulb that we can use."

Looking at him, the salvage yard man gave her a nod.

"See, we'll set the lamp right here on the nightstand and leave it turned on. That way, if Sam wakes up during the night, he will see you are right there, keeping your promise and in the morning you'll be alert enough, so you two can talk."

Although he would never openly confess to it, Dean knew the nurse was right. Her motherly embrace had taken the last bit of apprehension away from him and all he really wanted now was to sleep. Suddenly it felt like an effort to even use the bathroom. Still, he pulled himself together in typical Winchester fashion, "I'll take a quick shower before I go to bed."

Watching him shuffle out of the room anything but quick, put a big grin on Bobby's face, "Boy always has to have the last word, matter of fact, they both do, stubborn Winchesters."

The nurse couldn't hold back a laugh. After throwing a quick glance in Sam's direction to make sure she didn't wake him, she said, "That might be, but I have the feeling their stubbornness is nothing compared to yours."

"Guess you got me there." The hunter confessed, "But I have to be, if I want to put up with those two."

"Sure, just tell yourself that, Uncle Bobby!" She laughed again, as she walked into the hallway.

Following her, Bobby grumbled something beneath his breath that sort of sounded like "Darn women, always have to be right!"

TBC

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_So what you think? Sam is back and Bobby is back to grumbling and Dean is still awesome. Let me know if you liked it. Hugs, Vonnie_


	38. Chapter 38

_Hope all you Americans had a great Labor Day and you others a great start of the week. On with the story!_

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The sun had already burned of the dew of the night, when Dean awoke the next morning. Lying with his eyes closed, he listened to the soft steady sounds of his brother's breathing. Slowly he lifted his lids, taking in the giant lump in the other bed. In opposition to the previous day, when a catatonic Sam had stayed any the position he had been placed in, his body was now all over the bed. Lying on his belly, one leg was sticking out over the end of the bed, while the other hung almost down to the floor on the side closest to Dean. One arm stretched out along his body, the other was curled over his face as if sheltering his eyes from light. His face turned toward his brothers, his lips slightly parted; a small line of drool was slowly soaking into the sheet beneath his head. As for the pillow and sheet, it took the older man a moment to spot the latter, as it was almost hidden beneath his brother's body, while the former was pushed up against the headboard. The blanket never survived the night; it had been thrown off at sometime, knowing his brother, he guessed it had been early on and now was in lying in a heap in between both beds.

Dean smiled, Sam had never been a quiet sleeper, always tossing and turning, many times leaving his resting place in complete disarray. Plagued by nightmares, he had caused his brother and in his early years their father also, quite a few sleepless nights. There had been times, when the older brother had wished for a more quiet room-, sometimes even bed-mate, yet not today. Seeing Sam this way gave him assurance that the younger man hadn't retreated back into the abyss he had hidden in before.

Shaking his head in mild amusement, he grabbed his clothes and made his way into the bathroom. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought he remembered taking a shower last night, but wasn't quite sure if it actually happened or if he only imagined it. Either way, it wouldn't hurt taking another one now and it would give him some time to think about how he was going to approach Sam today.

Stripping out of his clothes, he turned on the water and stepped under the hot stream. Almost automatically he completed the task of washing his hair and body, his thoughts never leaving his little brother. He knew things wouldn't be easy for a while yet and he wondered how far he should push their conversation without going too far. His heart ached with the need to make things better for Sam and to find out what exactly was going on in the younger man's head, but he knew he would have to put his own needs to the side. Right now he needed to be careful not to push too hard. Sam needed to be able to come out on his own and talk. Knowing himself, he was sure it wouldn't be easy for him to let his little brother do just that.

This wasn't like when Sammy was injured and he had to fix him up, suturing and cleaning wounds, wrapping twisted or broken limbs, everything out in the open and clearly visible. This was different, here his brother had to be the one to open up and show him what needed fixing. He just prayed he would have the patience to wait for it to happen; otherwise things might just get worse.

SN SN SN SN SN

Trying to sneak back without disturbing his brother, Dean was alarmed to find that the bed was no longer occupied and there was no sign of the younger man anywhere in the room.

"Sam…" Not getting an answer, he ran into the hallway, his heart hammering in his chest, as panic started to creep up.

"Saammyyyyy…"

"Quit hollering you idjit, he is right down here!" The call came from Bobby, who was standing at the bottom of the steps.

In his hurry to get down, Dean almost fell over his own feet. Regaining his balance at the last moment, he was relieved to find Sam sitting on the couch, dressed in jeans and a shirt, his still wet chocolate colored hair curling loosely around his face.

Noticing the questioning look, the younger man explained, "Had to use the john, so I came down here. Jo took the IV out and then helped me with a shower." He blushed slightly at the last words.

Dean smirked, but didn't say anything, there would be enough time to tease his shy little brother about this later on. Looking at his watch, he realized for the first time that it had taken him almost an hour to shower and get out of the bathroom.

"Bout time you got done," Bobby interrupted, "person can starve while you follow your need for beautification." He grumbled good-naturedly.

"Now Bobby, give the boy a break, it's obvious you have enough reserves to last for a quite some time longer without dying of hunger." Nurse Jo stuck her head out the doorway to the kitchen, "Breakfast is ready, so better come and get it before it gets cold." She added.

Standing by, yet allowing Sam to get up and walk on his own, Dean followed him closely. He sat down beside his brother, marveling at the steaming pancakes, bacon, eggs and fresh fruit.

"Bobby went to town earlier to get supplies. I thought Sam would like some fruit and I know how much you like pancakes." Jo said with a smile.

"You sure you're not secretly married to Bobby?" The older Winchester grinned.

"I'm sure, one husband is enough for me, there is no way I could handle two of them." She laughed, as the older hunter grumbled something unintelligible under his breath.

Unexpected laughter coming from the youngest of their party caused everyone to look in his direction. Suddenly very self conscious, Sam blushed, "What…?"

"Nothing, it's just good to see you laugh, bitch!"

"Jerk!" Shoving a fork full of egg in his mouth, the younger man hid behind his long bangs.

Instead of saying anything else, Dean squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, before turning to Jo, "Guess we need to keep you around. Not only do you get Bobby to eat out of your hand, you also make Sammy laugh." His eyes conveyed much more to the experienced nurse though, saying, "_You have no idea how much this means."_

Her unspoken answer was just as easy to understand, "_Whatever it takes!"_

_SN SN SN SN SN_

Although Dean really wanted to talk to his brother as soon as possible, he decided it would be better to give the younger man time to rest. It didn't take long for Sam to fall asleep after he lay down on the couch. Two hours later the arrival of Dr. Carmichael woke him from his slumber. After checking the young Winchester out, the doc scribbled something on a pad, before tearing the paper off and handing it to Sam.

"This is a prescription for your new meds. I want you to start on them today and then take one tablet every day for the next month, after that we are going to wean off. I want to do blood tests every week and if everything goes alright, we can take you off the steroids completely. "

"Thanks." The younger man held on to the paper, his eyes never leaving the physician.

His mouth opened and closed several times, while his breath hitched ever so slightly with suppressed anxiety.

"Are you sure it was only the medication that…that made me…" Sam finally pressed out, his large hazel orbs filled with need for redemption, continued to be glued to the transplant surgeon.

"You mean was it the medication that made you hurt your brother?" Dr. Carmichael asked kindly.

"Y…yes…"

"It was! Sam, I've gotten to know you at least a little bit and I also have worked with a lot of patients in my time. I promise you, it was the medications that caused you to act the way you did."

Suddenly all tension went out of the young man. A loud sigh came from his lips and his eyes filled with moisture. Closing his lids over them, he sat for just a moment, trying to collect himself, before he whispered, "Thanks, I know it's not going to take it away, I'm still the one that hurt Dean, but at least I know didn't do it on purpose. "

The surgeon couldn't help the sudden warmth filling his heart. It wasn't often that he saw his kind of reaction. It was more likely for someone to use drugs as an excuse for any wrong doing, denying any guilt of their own. This young man on the other side had obviously put any guilt on his shoulders, ready to take it on, which most likely would have caused him to break, yet desperately hoping to find relief in not having been in control completely. It was clear he would always blame himself for what he did, but this would at least make it easier.

Locking eyes with his patient, Dr. Carmichael said in a firm voice, "Sam, please don't blame yourself for what happened. Steroid rage happens very rarely from prednisone, yet any observant physician should have been able to pick up on the signs. You were the victim here."

"We are still responsible for our actions." The young hunter stood and looked at him, grateful, yet unwilling to put all the blame on some drug, "If we are done, I think I will go upstairs."

"Sure, I'll see you tomorrow, before I leave."

Waiting until Sam disappeared up the stairs, the doctor turned to Dean, and "He is taking things very serious, isn't he?"

"You tell me doc!" The firstborn Winchester responded, "Sammy has always put the guilt of the world on his shoulders. Kid has been through way too much in his life."

"From what I heard, it hasn't been easy for you either, losing your mom early on, practically raising your little brother since you were only four, because your father was busy being a hunter."

For a long moment it was so quiet in the room, a pin dropping would have sounded like thunder. Dean exchanged a look with Bobby, who had been silently sitting in the background. It took several minutes before the younger man found his voice again.

"…but how?"

"How did I know?" The doc smiled, "My father was a surgeon, worked at a big trauma center in Philadelphia. One night a young woman and her two small children were brought into the emergency room after a car accident. All three were so severely injured; they died before they made it to the operating room. The man, who plowed into them with his car survived, because my father was able to save him. The husband of the woman blamed my father, threatened to kill him. He committed suicide the same night."

He stopped for a moment, looking at the two men in front of him. "Three month after this my father was killed on the same stretch of road where the accident happened. Two days the nurse that assisted him was killed in the same place. It seemed like a weird coincident, but no one really thought there was a connection. After the funeral my mother took my sister and me to our grandmother. We were on the same stretch of road, when the car suddenly swerved out of control. I'm not exactly sure what happened, I was eight at the time, my sister ten, but we were really scared and thought we were going to die. I remember my mom screaming and her hands were up in the air, like someone had tied them together. The steering wheel was turning and then without warning the car stopped. I remember my sister and I were crying and my mom just sat there. And then this guy showed up, told us we needed to get out of there right away, go home and that he was going o take care of things, told my mom he would explain later."

"Let me guess, he was a hunter?" Bobby asked.

"Right, he showed up at our house the next day, told us we probably wouldn't belief him, but that an angry spirit had tried to kill us, but that he had taken care of it. He told us his name was Samuel Campbell. My mom and sister thought he was nuts, but I never forgot about him. I could never find him again, but when I got older I started to dig around and found out more about this group of people calling themselves hunters. I made contact and offered my services. Quite a few have taken me up on it since then and I gladly continue to do whatever I can.

"I still don't understand how you knew we were hunters."

"Dean," He smiled again, "The name Winchester is well known in the hunting community. Your dad has helped a lot of people over the years and you and your brother are not completely unknown either."

"Did, did you ever meet our dad?" Dean suddenly needed to know.

"Sorry to say, I never did, or maybe it was good, because if I would have, it probably would have been because he was injured."

Still shocked from the revelation the young hunter asked, "But why did you wait until now to tell us?"

"I don't know, maybe because there wasn't a need for it. But the situation changed now. I felt you needed to know that I have an idea what your life is like, otherwise you wouldn't listen to what I have to say."

Dean looked at the surgeon for a while, sizing him up. What he knew of the man up to now, gave him no reason to believe he had anything but good intentions. Still, in this line of work one couldn't be too careful. Turning back towards Bobby, he read approval in the older man's eyes.

"Okay, so what do you have say?"

"Like you said, Sam has been through a lot in his not so long life. I heard a lot of rumors about him…"

He held his hand up, when Dean tried to protest, "Don't worry, I don't listen to rumors, only hard facts, but I know how he lost his girlfriend and how both of you lost your mother. I also know that it has something to do with a demon. Anything else never mattered and if I would have had any doubt, it would have been taken away by meeting you guys."

He paused for a moment, taking in the reaction of the two men before him. Satisfied by what he saw, he continued, "I'm really surprised by how well Sam is doing. The depression he was diagnosed with is obviously only a mild case and pretty normal for what he is going through. But I need you do understand that the only reason for this is because he has you. I know you don't like to take credit, but it's important that you do."

The older Winchester gave him a strange look, while Bobby smiled, understanding what he was trying to say.

"Sam depends on you and if you deny credit for this right now, he is likely to get lost. He needs to know that you won't drop him."

"Hey, I would never do that." Dean protested, "Sammy knows that!"

Dr. Carmichael smiled then turned serious again, "Yes, he does, but he is suffering from depression and he does have a load to carry with his transplant and everything that happened before and after. He needs you to be there and acknowledge how important you are to him. False humility is not called for right now. No one is asking you to brag, just to take credit, instead of telling him he is strong and did it all by himself. He is too smart to believe that. And before you say it, I know your brother isn't a weakling, he wouldn't have made it this far, if he would be, but the fact remains, if you wouldn't be there he would have no reason to hold on."

For a long time silence was hanging in the room like a rain cloud, as Dean contemplated, what to make of what the surgeon just told him. He never thought much about his part in anything, feeling that it was important to build up his brother's barely existing confidence. For someone to tell him the opposite, was something very new to him. Yet the longer he thought about it, the more it made sense. Doc didn't really ask him to keep from building Sam up, but rather let his baby brother know that he understood the importance of being the big brother and that he was the was going to be there for him.

"Alright, I guess I understand what you're trying to say." He said at last.

"Great!" The surgeon was glad he got through to the young man, "You have to have patient with your brother, let him go at his own pace, but don't deny him to do what he feels is important."

"What do you mean?"

At this point Bobby couldn't hold back, "He means that if Sam wants to go back to hunting, you have to let him, you idjit!"

An exasperated gasp followed his words, making Dr. Carmichael smirk and the older Winchester huff.

"Bobby is right, but I don't think Sam will feel up to going anywhere near a hunt anytime soon. So I don't think you have to worry. Bu I want to make sure that you understand it is perfectly fine for him to do whatever he wants, as long as he keeps his regular check-ups. I'm going to make sure that from now on all lab results will be fax or e-mailed to me. I'm not going to put up with any other physicians possibly putting him in danger. There is only one exception - Doc Finch, I trust her and know she is going to consult me. "

"You sure it's okay? We are not always within an easy distant from medical care?" Dean suddenly didn't feel very comfortable. Even though hunting was his life, he had silently resigned himself to never do it again in order to keep his brother safe.

"It's perfectly fine, as long as Sam has his meds and keeps his appointments. I also want your e-mail and cell phone numbers, so I always can get a hold of you. I already wrote mine down for you, including my private one and the one of my wife, in case you can't get in touch with me." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a card and handed it to Dean.

"Thanks, I don't really know what to say?"

"Its okay, whatever I can do to help. After all, you are the ones, who keep us all safe!"

TBS

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_So this chapter went in a direction that I didn't plan to take it. Hope you liked it. Hugs, Vonnie_


	39. Chapter 39

_I know it has been a while since the last update, but real life keeps throwing me curve balls. Thanks for sticking with me. This chapter is all about the boys talking._

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The opportunity for the brothers to talk came after supper that day. Feeling better and much less tired, Sam decided to read one of Bobby's books, an account on hunters during the medieval period. Taking the dusty tome outside, he settled down in one of the chairs on the porch and opened the stained cover. The book had been written more than a hundred years ago by an Irish hunter, whose family had been in the business for generations, going as far back as the turn of the sixth century. The younger Winchester had come across it a few weeks ago, while going through Bobby's library and taken it up to their room, where it had lain forgotten until this afternoon, when he had come across it while looking for some clothes in his duffel bag. How it had gotten in there remained a mystery, yet it was the first time in what seemed forever that he found himself interested in doing anything else than sleep or stare at the wall or ceiling.

It took only the first few pages to draw him in and keep him wanting to know more about this family, who had been hunting almost all of the legendary creatures of Irish mythology. To his surprise, it appeared that from the very beginning this family had made a distinction between good and evil supernatural beings.

Engrossed in the book, the younger man didn't notice Dean stepping onto the porch and watching him for several minutes, before sitting down in one of the chairs beside him.

"I brought you something to drink!"

Startled Sam looked up from his reading, the book almost falling out of his hands.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." His brother apologized.

"It's okay; I didn't hear you come out."

"Bobby thought you might like some juice." Dean explained, holding the glass out to him.

"Thanks!" Putting the book on the small table in front of him, he took the glass, emptying half of it before he set it down.

For a second there was an awkward silence, before the older man picked up the book, "What're you reading?"

"It's called 'Secrets of an Irish Family'. It's the history of the O'Greedy family. They've been hunters in Ireland for over a thousand years and actually made connections with some of the magical creatures that many think exist only in the imagination of people."

"You mean leprechauns and fairies and such?" Dean snorted.

"You don't have to believe it, but it sure sounds true enough. And really, after everything we've seen, why shouldn't they exist?" Sam asked slightly annoyed.

The older Winchester looked at his little brother, noticing that for the first time in weeks Sam's cheeks were flushed with a slight red and there was a spark in his eyes that although far from the usual strength, nevertheless showed some of the passion the young man was capable off.

"It's alright kiddo, I believe you. It's good to see you interested in something again."

Almost instantly the spark left the hazels and Sam's head started to droop, his eyes now hefted on his hands.

"I'm sorry; I know I have been a burden." The words were filled with sadness.

Dean sighed, he had been so hopeful because of his brother's enthusiasm and now one sentence from him had torn it all apart again. He wanted to scold himself, yet thinking about it, he realized that there had been no way to predict Sam would react like this, after all the words had been meant as an encouragement. It brought home to him, how fragile his brother's psyche was and that it wouldn't take much to destroy him again. Even more reason to let him know that he was not alone in this. Now if he just would know how to start without making things worse.

Sending a silent prayer up to heaven, hoping someone up there would hear him, he studied his brother for a moment, before taking a deep breath.

"Here goes nothing" He thought.

"Sammy, please listen to me now." He urged, "You've never been a burden. You…"

"Yeah right!"

Dean was taken aback by the interruption, yet not so much by the act itself, but rather by the way the words were said. At any time he would have expected them to drip of sarcasm, yet they were nothing, if not drenched with deep sorrow.

Instead of continuing or even scolding his brother, he changed his approach and said, "Okay, do you want to elaborate on that?"

The deep sigh that went through the younger man's body, for a moment lifting his slumped shoulders, before it made its way over his lips, was followed by a quiet, "No".

"Well, see I think you have to, because I don't think you are a burden, neither does Bobby. If you feel differently, then you have to explain, why you assume we would feel that way!"

There was a long break, almost too long for Dean to watch his brother sit there without moving a muscle. Ready to shake the other out of what he feared was another catatonic episode; he was surprised by the sudden lift of his head.

"I can't do this…"

It wasn't much, yet the few words were enough to give the older Winchester the patience needed to wait.

It took almost another ten minutes before Sam started to talk.

"You've always been there for me, no matter what I needed. All my life I looked at you for answers, for help and you never ever refused."

Sam looked back on the floor, his hair hanging down, obstructing the view to his face. Still, he couldn't hide the trembling of his lips, nor the sob he was holding back. Right then Dean wanted nothing more than to draw him into a tight hug, yet the fear of his brother clamping up again held him back. He knew he needed to give Sam time and room right now, no matter how difficult it was.

"You never were allowed to do what you wanted and always had to take care of me and then I left." He drew in a shaky breath, almost like he needed to find the strength to get out the next words. "And you were still there when I needed you, even after I refused to go with you to find dad, you came back, saved my ass, not once said "I told you so". You were just there, held me up when I needed you the most. And again, when you needed me after dad died, I failed…"

A single tear made its way down the younger man's left cheek, as his hazels locked with his brother's green ones.

"I don't have the right to ask you for more."

Waiting for a moment to make sure Sam was finished and using the time to think, Dean remembered what Dr. Carmichael had told him about taking credit.

"Sammy, look, I know you think I stuck with you because that's what dad drilled into me, but that's not the only reason. Really, I never wanted anything else. I love hunting, I love this life, but more than anything, I love you, little brother."

He paused, to make sure his brother understood. Seeing the younger man's eyes continuing to hang on him, he said, "The reason why I'm sticking with you is because that's where I belong. I don't want to be anywhere else. That doesn't mean that I didn't understand that you wanted to live a different life. Look kiddo, I know you. I know that all you ever wanted was be 'normal'. Believe me; I wanted that for you too. That's why I let you go, not because I was mad at you for doing it."

"I know!"

The words brought a smile to Dean's face, "See and that's why I was there, when you needed me, that's why I never said 'I told you so". I'm sorry that you had to lose all of it, had to lose Jess, but I'm not sorry to have you back with me. Call me a selfish bastard, but I like the thought that I'm important to you. And don't think you failed me. You were right there and offered, I just didn't know how to accept."

At that point the firstborn Winchester stood up and walked around. He just wasn't used to sitting there forever and having a chick flick moment. It wasn't his style and he already done it for way too long. I just hoped Sam would understand.

"You need to understand that I want to be there and help you, because that's a part of who I am. I'm your brother Sammy; you could never be a burden to me."

Looking at the spark that suddenly appeared in his brothers eyes, changing the brownish green to a lighter, almost golden brown with reflections of green in their depths, he knew he had gotten his point across.

"That doesn't mean that you are not a pain in the ass at times." He added, "But I guess that's part of being a little brother, isn't it?"

Having gotten closer to Sam, he wrapped his arm around the other's neck and pulled him forward, ruffling his chocolate brown locks. Releasing him after a moment, the younger man huffed and attempted to straighten his hair out, yet there was an genuine smile on his face, one that reached up all the way into his eyes.

Sitting back down, Dean leant forward and looked at the other hunter. There was a moment of silence, during which Sam's smile disappeared once more, yet although his expression was serious again, it was no longer one of hopelessness and despair.

"I know saying thank you is not enough, but…"

"Look," Dean interrupted him, "I didn't do anything you wouldn't do for me also, so thank you will be fine. And maybe I'm just selfish, I need you around, wouldn't be the same without you!"

"Still, I know I'm a mess."

"Yeah well, cleaning up messes in part of my job description, it's on page two of the big brother manual and you always can pay me back the next time I need it." The older man smirked.

"You can count on me."

Watching his baby brother chew on his lower lip, his eyes slightly scrunched, Dean knew there was something more on the other's mind.

"Okay kiddo, spit it out? What is it that still bugs you?"

For just a split second it looked like Sam was going to deny it, before he thought better of it.

"It's…it's just that I know how much you love hunting and I really don't want you to give it up on my behalf." Seeing his brother open his mouth to interrupt, he lifted his hand, "No Dean, let me finish. I thought that maybe we could make this our home base; I mean if Bobby wouldn't mind. Otherwise we could always find a place in town. I'm sure I could find a job and maybe you could help out here and Bobby and you could go on hunts together. And maybe I could still be useful by helping with research and stuff."

He noted the look on Dean's face and hurried to continue, "You wouldn't be happy just sitting around and I don't want you to go out there without back up. It would be too dangerous. Not that I think you're not capable or anything…" He left the rest open; suddenly afraid he might have given his brother the wrong impression. Letting his head hang, he hid behind his bangs to not have to see the look on Dean's face.

So it was even more surprising, when he felt a finger underneath his chin gently lifting it up, until he was looking straight at the other man.

"I understand that you're worried, but I wouldn't go hunting without you as my back up." This time it was Dean, who put his hand up to keep the younger man from interrupting him. "There is no reason, why we can't go at it together, just like we always have. Dr. Carmichael said it will be a few month, but he is sure you will be able to life a completely normal life, do everything you have done in the past, including hunting.

Seeing the astonishment written on the other's face, he started to tell Sam about the conversation he had with the transplant specialist and how it turned out the man had known about hunting since he'd been little and even had heard the Winchester name in the past. Finishing, he looked at his brother for a reaction.

"You mean I really can hunt again?" It was clear that Sam needed a little more time to process the information, his voice still laced with disbelief.

"Only if you want to, I would perfectly understand if you would wanna go back to school again." Dean answered, waiting with held breath for an answer. He didn't have to wait long.

"No, Stanford is behind me. I can't get back what I lost and I understand now, why dad didn't want me to go. I wish I would have listened to him…" Tears appeared in the expressive eyes, yet before the older man could say anything Sam continued, "…but I'm also glad I went. I learned a thing or two and Jess... well I wouldn't miss knowing her for anything in the world, except maybe if it would bring her back."

Unable to find the right words to respond, Dean remained silent, instead he just put his hand on the younger man's shoulder, knowing that there really was nothing he needed to say.

TBC

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Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think. Thanks and hugs, Vonnie


	40. Chapter 40

_Once again, it took me a long time to update and I'm sorry for it. No excuses, just on to the story!_

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Bobby Singer paused for a moment before stepping into the kitchen. Both of the Winchesters were already sitting at the table, digging into the breakfast Sam prepared. Suddenly the younger man grimaced and let out a "gross", when his brother stuffed a piece of toast in his mouth, showing off the scrambled eggs and bacon already in there.

Chewing and swallowing enough of the food to allow him to talk around the rest, Dean smirked, "Hey, instead of complaining, you should take it as a compliment to your cooking!"

"Yeah well, could you restrain your enthusiasm enough to keep control your manners, instead of grossing me out?"

"Bite me…"

"No thanks, I rather not, don't know where you've been last, don't wanna get sick." Sam countered.

"What?" The older Winchester threw his hands in the air, "if anything, biting me would just make you awesome and cool."

"Jerk"

"Bitch" Dean's response came without hesitation and with a smirk on his face.

Looking up, Sam noticed for the first time their surrogate father was standing in the doorway, "Oh hey Bobby, sit down, there is plenty of food left for you."

He stood up and went over to the counter. Taking a mug out of the cupboard, he filled it with coffee and handed it to the other man.

Drinking a large swig of the hot concoction, the older hunter let out an appreciative sigh, before starting to fill his plate with eggs, bacon and several slices of toast.

"Guess from now on I'll have to make my own breakfast again!" He stated, "You sure you don't wanna stay?"

"Already got everything loaded into the car." Dean replied, "We'll take off right after breakfast, I wanna drive about half way today, then find a motel. Don't wanna wear the kid out too much!"

"The kid is sitting right here and would like to have a say in this too!" Sam protested good-naturedly.

"No way, we're stopping just as planned."

"Didn't say we shouldn't, I just said I wanted a say in it." The younger Winchester smirked.

He felt better than he had in months, but knew he had to take it easy and not just jump into the hunt they had researched without thinking. In addition he decided to let Dean take the lead, it would make his brother feel better and show him that he trusted him.

"Smartass…" Dean looked at his little brother affectionately.

The hunt they had chosen was easy, a simple salt and burn in Ohio. The spirit never killed or even hurt anyone, just played some harmless tricks on people. Things like switching the salt with sugar or putting blue dye into the shampoo bottle. Matter of fact, when he had first read about it, he couldn't help but remember the Nair in the shampoo trick, he had played on Sam during one of their prank wars.

Upon looking further into it, Sam had found out the spirit used to be a ten year old boy, who died fifty some years ago of polio. He had been one of six brothers and four sisters and it seemed he'd never moved on, continuing to silently enjoy the presence of his siblings and after they'd moved out, his parents. Now that both his father and mother had died of old age and the family had decided to sell the house, he obviously took joy in making his presence known with harmless pranks. Yet continuing to let him do so would be like playing with fire, as one could never be sure when a benevolent spirit might turn evil. Sooner or later all of them did and now was the time to end it, before anything happened. And it was the perfect opportunity for a first hunt for Sam.

Bobby had allowed the boys to do all the research and planning, yet couldn't help but make sure they had some back up in the area, although he didn't tell the Winchesters about that, as it was something they would have never have agreed to. Experience though had taught the grizzled hunter that he had every reason worry; after all, he was dealing with Sam and Dean here. Sure he trusted them and knew both of them were capable hunters, yet after everything that happened, he needed to know that this hunt wouldn't have even the slightest chance of going south.

SN SN SN SN SN

An hour later Dean was standing in the yard, Bobby's strong arms embracing him with all their power. The older man kept the hug short, knowing the other hunter would not allow for any longer physical contact, unless it was initiated by him, which actually happened more frequently than one would expect. After feeling the affection returned, he moved on to Sam. Almost immediately he found the taller Winchester leaning against him, his hand almost dropping the cell and map held, as he wrapped them around his upper body. Staying like this for a second, Sam finally stepped back.

Damn, those boys really knew how to get to him, all that was missing now was that he started to cry now.

After taking a moment to pull himself together, he addressed both of them, "You take care of each other and call me. You don't, I'll come and hunt your asses down, you hear me?"

Sam smiled, "Yes, Sir!"

There were a hundred more things the salvage yard owner wanted to say, but he knew most of them wouldn't go over too well with Dean and the rest of them needed to be left unsaid, if he wanted to keep up the image of the grumpy old hunter, he had fought so hard to obtain his whole life. Instead he stood by and watched as Dean climbed into the driver's seat of the Impala, throwing one last look at him that told him more than any words would ever be able to.

Sam hesitated slightly, before joining his brother on the passenger side, his eyes wandering around the junk yard, before pausing on the house for a while and then finally locking with Bobby's.

"Thanks Bobby, for everything!"

"Just come back soon" The grizzled hunter answered, watching the young man disappear into the black car.

The engine came to live with a loud roar an Dean pulled his baby down the drive and out of the yard. Bobby watched until the car disappeared around the curve, before walking back into the house. Padding Rumsfeld on the head, he went inside. Settling on the couch, he grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. After flipping through the channels for a while, he got up and made his way into the kitchen. Refilling his empty cup, he took several sips of the hot brew, before setting it back down on the table.

"Darn idgits, can't believe I miss them already." The hunter mumbled, shaking his head.

He was used to being alone ever since his wife died. Granted, since John Winchester had shown up on his door step, two little boys in tow, things had been a little different, but he'd always known that the time with the kids would be temporary and had been prepared to let them go. This time though, he really had hoped the boys would decide to stay, making his home their home base. He even had offered, yet had been turned down.

The junk man let his gaze glide out of the window, his thoughts wandering back through the last few months. He still had difficulty believing John Winchester never thought it necessary for him to know about the sleepwalking spell little Sammy experienced. They almost lost the youngest and not just once, because of it. Yet at least there had been something good that came out of the almost tragedy. Dean, almost destroyed by the death of his father, had finally realized that his little brother had always been and still was the most important person in his life.

It had been a long road back for them though, even after Sam had come out of his catatonia and the steroid induced rage, he still had been struggling with depression. Although most of it had been caused by the prednisone, it had taken more time for this effect of the drug to wear off and the anti-depression drugs to kick in. Bobby had seen how Sam had been struggling with his inability to stop melancholy in its track. After he had known the cause, he had felt he should be able to take control the illness, instead it continued to pull him into the darkest crevices of his mind, flooding him with a complete lack of hope and a devastation, he had been incapable to fight. It hadn't taken long before the young man had taken on the guilt of putting yet another burden on Bobby and his brother. In typical Winchester fashion he had taken on responsibility for something that not even his biggest enemy could have held him accountable for.

In all this Dean had come through for his brother, pulling him out the depth of dejection and being his hope when nothing else could lighten his load. It had reminded the grizzled hunter of when he first had met them. Dean had always been there for little Sammy, hardly ever leaving his side and always making sure the little one had everything he needed. When no one else had been able to calm the distressed baby, it had taken one touch, one look from the older boy to quiet the little one, even make him smile at times. Any other child that age; the boy couldn't have been older than five at the time his father first showed up at Bobby's doorstep, wouldn't have been able to take care of his own needs, yet this little tike had managed to not just do that but also handle his baby brother. Never had it been John the smallest Winchester had cried for whenever he'd been waking up from a nap or been hungry.

It hadn't been that their father hadn't tried, yet still too distressed from the death of his wife and the reality that in face what was out there, he never would be able to give his sons the life they would have otherwise had; he just had provided as much attention as he could spare them. And that had usually been only enough for one of them. Most it had been Dean, not because his father had loved him more, but rather because he was older and had witnessed the tragedy that took his mother, so John had seen him as a confidant, rather than the little boy he had been. Baby Sammy on the other hand hadn't been able to run after his father or even ask for his affection. The younger boy though had never suffered from the lack, as Dean had always more than made up for it. In return he had been adored and worshipped by his brother.

Bobby smiled, remembering, he witnessed the first word the little one had spoken and although John had tried to deny it, there had been no mistaking the "De" out of the toddler's mouth for anything else but a declaration of love for his brother.

And just like then, Dean now had carried his brother, although not literally, as the little brother now was the bigger one, until the medication finally had kicked in and done its job. Still, there was no doubt in their surrogate father's mind that in the end it was more the effect Dean had on Sam, than the one of the medication that had pulled the younger sibling out of the depression.

After that it had taken only a very short time, before Sam started to push for training again. Bobby knew that at that point he had felt that it was his turn now to take action. Dean had agreed, yet made sure his brother would go easy and not overdo it. There wasn't a single time, when the younger man would go for walks or runs without Dean accompanying him. And although Sam was usually very independent and especially enjoyed alone time during his runs, taking the time to clear his head, he had never seemed to mind, actually clearly thriving on the attention his brother was giving him. It had been like there was a silent understanding between them, something that had been there in the past but had been missing ever since their dad had died. Now it had returned and in a way appeared to be even stronger than it had been before.

Getting Sam back into shape, helping him feel 'normal' again had clearly been Dean's ultimate goal. As soon as he had accomplished it, the firstborn Winchester had started to get antsy, yet had put his effort into helping fix up some of the cars on the lot that still were worth doing so. And in the end, when the older man had suggested for them to stay with him and make his home their base, it had been Sam, not Dean, who'd said no. There had been no question in Bobby's mind to why the younger Winchester had done it though, but he had know that it hadn't been a sacrifice either, as Sam's home had always been Dean and maybe the Impala, as the two of them seemed almost as inseparable as the brothers were.

Turning back towards the room, Bobby sent a short prayer for protection for his boys to heaven. He wasn't the believing kind, yet he knew that too many miracles had happened lately for him to ignore the possibility. And after all, their friend Jim Murphy had believed and if there was a heaven, he would surely be up there and relay his request to the Almighty. And maybe he needed to say a little thank you also, because with all the worry and anxiety those boys brought with them, they also brought something else, something he never expected to experience – family.

Sure, he always had called his hunter friends his family, yet they had been more like extended family, some as close as cousins, John almost like a brother, yet this was different. Dean and Sam, those boys were different. They weren't his blood, but they were his sons anyway. He knew he would give anything for them and although he probably never would find out for sure, he had recognized almost immediately that John had made some kind of deal to save Dean. And although he would have called anyone else a fool for doing so, there was no doubt in his mind that he would do the same for either of the boys without even so much as blinking. Blood reached only so far, family though reached far beyond and to him that's what Sam and Dean were.

THE END

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_So this is it. I know I ended it with Bobby's point of view and maybe this was disappointing to some of you, but after the long talk in the last chapter I felt that Bobby deserved this. He is the one that has been pulling our boys out of the fire again and again and I needed to make sure he was being recognized for it._

_Thanks for sticking with me; it has been a long journey. I have a sequel in mind, but have no idea when I will get to it. No promises there. There are a few other projects I need to finish. You all have been awesome and I want to give thanks to all of you, especially to Hotshow for the idea to this story. It took on a live of its own, mainly due to the ideas and inspirations many of you sent me. Again, thank you and let me know how you liked the ending. Hugs, Vonnie_


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